


Elysium

by ForrestFox



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alpha Eren Yeager, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bigotry & Prejudice, Forced Bonding, Hurt/Comfort, Insecure Jean, M/M, Non-Consensual, Omega Jean Kirstein, Omega Verse, Self-Esteem Issues, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-18
Updated: 2019-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-24 22:39:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 43,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14963534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForrestFox/pseuds/ForrestFox
Summary: ElysiumnounA place or state of perfect happiness.ORIn which Jean and Eren are forced into a bond they will have to deal with for the rest of their lives.





	1. And so, it begins...

 

This is a really stupid idea. 

Really really stupid. 

This is really stupid and really permanent and really happening.

Fuck, this is really happening.  

What doesn't help to ease the tension in is the fact that the situation requires Jean to go down into the dungeon, which is gothic and gloomy, shrouded in an almost suffocating darkness broken only by the sparse oil lanterns scattered along the endless hallways that make up the maze of the underground.

It’s fucking _terrifying_ , along with the sounds of screaming and moaning echoing through rusted ion bars of the stone cells. Metal chains clinking against the concrete as something in the darkness scuffles backwards, away from the firelight the Captain is holding.

Jean keeps his eyes low. Shoulders hunched to his ears and head bent so his chin is tucked tightly into his chest. He want’s so badly to leave this place, escape from this hell and out into the fresh midnight air he left behind. However his lungs can’t seem to inhale enough oxygen, can’t take deep enough breaths for his mind to stop racing and crashing around. He can’t think at all, thoughts so panicked and scrambled that he isn’t able to conjure a reason, an _excuse_ as to why this idea won’t work. 

Truth is, it’s the only idea they could come up with. And there’s not enough time to figure out another one, not when there’s this much desperation and apprehension clouding everyone's judgment and ability to think anyway. 

Even if Jean does protest, his cries will only fall on deaf ears. There’s nobody else who can take his place. It _has_ to be him. It can _only_ be him. The Captain told him so. 

They came to him a mere hour ago. His first reaction was “What the fuck?” 

A natural reaction. 

Followed by, “Is this for real?”

Which it was. 

Jean was attempting to sleep in the barracks after bring up all night and early that morning. He’d only just returned from the city, out in search of Marco who’d yet to return and report. He’d not been seen since that morning, and Jean had spent as much time as he could out looking for him after they’d dealt with the wall breach. 

Everyone was in a state of hysteria to some degree. Jean saw it as he walked through the city. The devastation that had flooded the streets and homes of its residents. Orphans crying and widows sobbing, humans both living and dead covered in blood and dirt and flies. It made him sick to see such sights, an arduous churning of his stomach making him fall against a wall to expel the merge contents of his stomach... on multiple occasions. 

Not unlike how he feels now in fact. His hands clammy and shaking as a bead of sweat gathers from his brow and drips down the side of his face. He wipes nervously at his forehead, casting a glance at the short blonde boy walking beside him. Armin Alert, the _smart_ kid. Surely he can come up with a plan better than this. One that doesn’t take away everything that Jean is, that he's worked so hard and long to become, and turn him into something he despises. 

But Armin’s face is stern, a determination seen even in the shadow cast upon his face from the firelight. There’s no going back. Jean’s fate is decided. 

He just wished Marco was here. He just want’s to talk to him. 

When Jean had returned to the Survey Base he’d been disappointed to find Marco still hadn’t shown. A hope that the beta might have wandered back whilst Jean was out. Except his bed was empty, untouched since they were flung from their beds earlier to save the city. But Marco’s a righteous soul, humble and principled. It wouldn’t be put past him to have stayed in the city amongst the civilians to give them aid and whatnot. 

He’s probably surrounded by orphan pups now, Jean thinks. He selfishly wishes the boy would come back though, maybe to stop this whole ordeal. Surely they’d listen to Marco. He’s a voice of reason, he’d be able to come up with another idea to save Eren Jaeger. 

“It’s because you’re the only omega here that he’s familiar with,” Armin tells him as they walk towards the dungeon's entrance. Jean had been ordered from bed by his Captain, and still in his long nightshirt, then been ordered to follow him down to Eren Jaegers cell. He’d not even had time to put on shoes, having been rushed out in a quiet hurry, almost like their actions were to be kept a secret like they weren’t meant to be doing what they were attempting to do. Jean knows now that what they’re doing isn’t at all authorised by the Survey Council, and most likely going to get them admonished and reprimanded by the Army Rule. 

“But I-I don’t- I can’t-“ Jean had stammered, halting in his path and taking a step away from the three pairs of frenzied, perilous eyes. There was something frightening and dangerous about their stances as if they were prepared to continue with their plan with or without Jean’s cooperation. “W-what about Christa, she’s an omega. Or, or someone from 103, I know there are heaps of Omegas there. Armin please,” he begs as the blonde beta advances towards him, his hands raised in the annoying placating way that Jean would have scowled at if this whole situation wasn’t filling him with anxiety and fear. 

“You’re the only one Jean. Come on, we need to hurry.”  

Jean feels his throat close up and his heart starts to drum laboriously in his chest and deafeningly in his ears. Because really, this is fucking insane. He takes another step back. “No, I can’t. I-“

Mikasa steps forwards, looking fierce and terrifying. “You’re an unbonded omega that already has Eren’s scent mark. What’s more important is that you’re a male, and therefore unable to get pregnant. It’s rare to have someone like you outside of the capital or the church, and yet here you are.” Mikasa looks him up and down, a glimmer of what Jean assumes is revulsion in her scrutinising gaze. “It has to be you. There is no one else. And if you think you’re going to refuse your duty as an omega to _service an Alpha where it counts_ , then you are more of a coward than I thought.” 

Jean can feel her Alpha aroma invading his senses. It’s a shock to his system, having never been confronted by this much loathing before by someone that it’s transferred through their primal pheromones. It takes him back, makes him lower his eyes and whine softly in the back of his throat, to show his submission. 

And fuck, he hasn't made a noise like _that_ in a long fucking time. 

He hates himself _immediately_ , but he doesn’t really know these people or what they’re capable of, and he’s scared. Because they’re asking… they’re asking him to _bond_ with someone. They’re using him, just because he’s an omega. 

All his life he’s resented his gender combination. Alphas, Betas and Omegas were what was classed as Traditional Genders, and were much stronger socially, politically, and emotionally than the other Base Genders, male and female.

Alpha is the ideal gender. Being strong and stable, able to protect and provide. They’re the ones who have the easy lives, the ones that can be male or female and still be considered the more productive members of society. They were the ones destined to be leaders of the home, the village, the army, and the kingdom. They were the ones that had the _control_.

Betas were the ones that had the freedom. If you were a Beta, you were content to be whatever you wanted to be. They had pheromones, however they weren’t as prominent as could be found in Alphas and Omegas. They were calm mostly, usually the ones that went into schooling or education. Again, it wasn’t an issue if you were male or female when you a Beta. 

The issue of Base gender belonged almost exclusively to Omegas. 

Omegas were the homemakers, the ones that serve. They were the ones whose sole purpose was to breed, to have children and raise them to be the next generation of civilisation… at least that's what they tell the young, bright-eyed and pretty female omegas that get pregnant at 15 after being mated with an Alpha selected by her family. Arranged marriages are common, it’s not often that an Omega will get to choose their partner, often being married off to someone that can give the family social status or some other form of benefit. 

Omegas are basically slaves, according to Jean that is. He sometimes feels bad for the girls because at least he won’t have to bear the burden of some Knothead Alphas pups, having been born a boy. 

Still, it’s sometimes worse to be male and omega. At least if you can get pregnant, society will see you as something useful to it. Jean, however, doesn’t have the absurd strength and power that Alphas have, nor the calm collectedness that Betas have. He’s a barren omega who’s destined to just be some Alphas fucktoy.

Just a hole to fuck with no repercussions. 

Jean is sure as hell not going to be _anyone's_ pick for a mate. Not when he’s as useless as he is.

If a child was born an Alpha, many times there would be a celebration in the family or village. Jean’s attended these ceremonies in his own village in the mountains. Everyone with big happy smiles, cooing over the bassinet like birds. The mother, an Omega girl of what couldn’t have been older than 16 looked tired but pleased, as she was thanked and congratulated by her visitors. The Alpha father standing proudly next to her, a hand protectively resting over his mates' pillow. 

They looked so happy. 

Jean, whilst only young, had remembered the feeling of envy rising up in him. At the time he didn’t understand what that feeling meant, only that he’d wanted a family like this for himself, to have a baby in his arms and an Alpha by his side. 

Him and his mother, who’s scowl had never left her face the moment she’d heard of the newborn alpha’s arrival into the world, were mostly silent on their walk home.

They never spoke much to each other, his mother preferring to stick to her room of silks and linen. She was a midwife but had stopped when Jean was born, instead turning to sewing and stitching, not leaving the house much but still making a living as a seamstress. She was a Beta, like Jean’s father, and therefore didn’t have an issue in supporting herself and her child alone. Jean’s father died from a heart attack some many years back, a little after his birth he’d been told.  

It was a rare occasion for her to be out, Jean could tell by the way the other villages looked at her with curious and somewhat suspicious eyes. Greeting her with forced smiles that Jean, who’s been perceptive to peoples social interactions and statuses since he could remember, felt like hiding away from his mother just to avoid the backlash of whatever burden she carried. 

It wasn’t until they turned their gazes down at him, that Jean noticed the judgment and contempt wasn't directed just at his mother. _He_ was the burden she carried with her, and _he_ was the reason they were shamed. 

He’s sure there wasn’t a happy celebration when he was born. Only the broken hopes of his mother who hasn't spoken to him now in _years_ , and never once talked about the fact that her son was omega. 

In fact, Jean was kept in the dark like a secret, only going out of their tucked away house in the woods to get food and sewing supplies. Walking down the street people either ignored him or rolled their eyes as they whispered around him, soft voices just that tad too loud for him not to overhear. 

“He’s the omega boy from down the road.”

“What a disappointment.”

“Good for nothing. ”

“No wonder his mother is too ashamed to show her face. I wouldn’t want an omega for a son.”

He’d glare at them until they looked away with ruffled _‘how dare you’_ feathers. But the damage would be done and Jean would walk the back alleys home with his hood up over his face. Male omegas can’t breed, they can’t reproduce whether they’re fucking or getting fucked. They really don’t have a purpose.  Which is a hard thing to be when humanity is literally dying and omegas are expected to have up to 5 kids just to keep the population up.

Most male omegas are sent to the monasteries within their first ten years of life, destined to a life of abstinence serving the church. It’s not a bad life, it's better than the alternative. Death. 

Jean’s mother's friend had 3 of her pregnancies terminated on the suspicion that she was harbouring a male omega. She has 6 children in total, all girls, 4 of her children are betas, and the other two are omegas. 

There are rumours that she threw her last birth into the river in a bag because it was a male omega. Jean wouldn’t be surprised, the woman was insane. She’d come over to his mothers' place whenever she needed clothing fixed or someone to gossip to. Hiding amongst the silks and yarns Jean would listen in. 

“It’s her third Alpha born child, can you believe that? And they’re both Beta parents, oh if only I was so lucky. Four bloody betas and two omegas are all I have… well, at least _I’m_ fortunate enough they’re all able to be married off.”

She pauses then, waiting for his mothers' reaction. Jean pokes a finger out to move the silk aside to allow a sliver of a view for his mothers face. It’s stoic, as it usually is, and doesn’t change an inch as she lifts her tea up to her lips and says, “That is fortunate.”

The woman, Rhonda Perril, twitched her eyebrow and smiled a feral looking smile. She obviously carried a feeling of superiority when visiting, in knowing that Jean’s mother, whilst much more beautiful and self-sufficient than her, hasn’t been able to produce what society deems as a successful litter. 

“I don’t know why you don’t just remarry. You’re still young. Just send your… _little one_ , off to the priests to deal with. Give yourself a chance to find an Alpha or a Beta that can give you what you want. It pains me to see you cooped up here all day, that child your only company. Flora, I implore you to rid yourself of it and begin a new life.”

Jean sat with baited breath, hands shaking and lips trembling with the fear of his mothers' response. 

They never got on truly well, have never had that maternal connection that he sees other pups have with their mothers. He can count the number of times his mothers smiled at him on one hand. The number of times she’s told him she’s proud of him. That she loves him. Even less the number of times she’s hugged him.

Jean’s mother just sighs. “I wouldn’t want to have any more children. I wouldn’t take the risk.”

The risk that they would turn out like Jean. 

When Jean had turned 13 he’d registered for the army, having seen the soldiers stroll through his village on horseback, watching the way people, even Alphas, would look up to them and praise them. Jean gets the idea that maybe if he’s good enough in the army and gets a high enough rank people in his village might look at him the same way, with praise and pride instead of prejudice and disdain. 

He’d not yet been sent into heat by an alpha, therefore able to apply as an unmarked omega. Heats and ruts are only brought upon by mating rituals, which is why, unless you're over the age of 18 or have been mated for at least 3 years prior to enrolment you aren’t able to enter the army if marked or ‘ _prone to pheromonal acts_ ’ such as rutting and presenting. 

His mother didn’t much have an opinion about it. Just told him to be safe and waved him away from her perch at the sewing table, letting Jean show himself out. In his hand was a bunched up piece of creme white silk he’d snagged as a piece of homely memorabilia, but it didn’t feel milky or soft like milk should. 

The army accepted him without a blink, and it occurred to Jean that it was the first time he’d not been taken at face value. That they didn’t see an omega, but instead they saw a _person_ willing to become a soldier. 

It wasn’t until now that his traditional gender has come into any sort of involvement with his job. Of course, there’s been teasing, but it's not the malicious whispering of people he grew up with, instead it’s the rowdy cat calling and derogatory humour that occurs between comrades.   

“There’s not much time left before dawn, we need to do this now,” Captain Levi says from where he’s waiting by the dungeon door. The way the light shines down on the entrance but not into it gives it a depthless illusion, like Jean’s about to be thrown into a dark hole in the ground, left to starve and die. 

“Jean please, it’s just to buy us time before the execution. We just need time. They’re going to hang him at dawn. We need to stick with the plan.”

It’s not a very good plan, Jean wants to scream. “What if they don’t care that he’s mated… what if they hang me too?” He’s desperate now, for any excuse. But his audience isn’t worried about his wellbeing, because they’re not doing this for him. They’re doing it for Eren. Jean would be doing it for Eren. 

“They won’t,” Armin tells him through a thin film of confidence. “It’s against the law to kill a mated person, especially if the other mate is innocent.”

When they reach Eren’s cell Jean doesn’t look up, just continues to try and force the rising sobs in his throat. It hurts, and he hopes he doesn’t have to speak because he knows for a fact that as soon as he opens his mouth he’s going to fall apart. He can’t believe he’s doing this, that things have led to this. Just this morning there was a fucking titan attack, and then Marco disappeared, and Eren turned into a monster too, who Jean’s now mean to mate with for life just to get him out of the death sentence… 

Through the thick thumping of his rampaging heart, he can once again hear the clinking of chains as something shuffles closer to the bars. 

They completely bypass pleasantries, Eren moving straight to the point. 

“Whats _he_ doing here?” God, that voice. Deep and scratched and so tired. Like he’s given up. In the year that he’s known him, Jean’s never heard Eren sound that defeated… it’s such a shock that it sends his eyes upwards, finding that Eren’s eyes are almost glowing emerald in the firelight. 

He doesn’t look any different than from when Jean last saw him. Everyone said that he’d turned into a monster, but Jean can’t see any extra limbs or eyes. He does look bigger though, taller and muscular as if he’s had the next three years of growing shoved into the last 24 hours. But his face looks as exhausted as his voice, his eyes, whilst bright, are tired and drooping, with shadows dancing around the rim. 

Jean would feel bad for him if he wasn’t the entire reason why Jean’s stomach has dropped 10,000 feet and his legs feel numb. 

“He’s the solution,” Armin says, looking nervously from Eren to Jean. “He’s going to help you get out of here, or at least buy us time to come up with a better plan.”

Eren presses his hand against the bars, “How?”

“W-Well,” Armin takes a deep breath. “The plan is that you- that you and he have to-“ It occurs to Jean through the stuttering explanation that Eren is only now just hearing about this for the first time… this isn’t even his idea. He doesn’t… he won’t want to mate with Jean either, not voluntarily. 

Armin is still stuttering through the reasoning of Jean’s presence, and neither Mikasa or Levi seem likely to jump in. The captain just looks deep in thought, like his mind’s already days in the future planning out what they’re to do if this plan turns to shit if Eren refuses to mate with him. And Mikasa just looks… pissed. Her eyes are narrowed into slits, as she stares defensively at the wall behind Erens shoulder, arms crossed shifting impatiently. What she’s defending herself from, Jean has no idea. She’s not the one being fucking attacked right now. 

“Well, the law states that-that-“ Armin mumbles, and Jean pushes him none too gently to the side, in a burst of impatience. 

“They want us to bond. Become mates,” He says, proud that his voice didn’t crumble out in tiny pitches like he thought it would, instead just a low, defeated monotone that portrays the numbness that’s started to extend from his legs to the back of his spine because Holy shit this is happening, this is really happening.

Eren reels back, a look of what Jean thinks is disgust on his face. 

“What the fuck?”

Yeah. That was his first action too. 

Eren’s hands are shaking, like Jean’s. 

“What the fuck Mikasa!” he shouts. It’s so loud that it echoes down the hall, some of the fellow inmates shouting out in response, fuck fuck fuck fuck. 

Jean closes his eyes, breaths deeply through his nose and forces himself not to cry. 

“It’s just to buy time,” Mikasa says, for what seems to be the 10th time in the last hour. 

“Why would that- how? How is mating gonna buy us fucking time?” Eren slams his hands on the bars again. Looks at his friend intensely, “Miks I’m okay with this whole execution thing. If they’re gonna hang me then they can-“

“Stop it!” Mikasa says voice course and hollow like wind beating against court iron. Her eyes are desperate again, Jean notices. “That’s _not_ happening. I’m not going to let that happen.”

“It’s inevitable-“

“It’s not.” She sounds final.

Eren stares searchingly at her through the bars, until he takes a step forward and grabs her hand, holding it so gently that Jean suddenly clicks. They’re together. They’re— they’re meant to mate. Or rather they were, until now. _Holy shit._

And Jean’s ruining it. This bond will mean they're never together again… they can’t be. And neither will Jean. Because Mikasa is a Alpha, it’s not going to work out. This plan can’t work with another Alpha. Not even with a Beta... it has to be an Alpha and Omega. 

“Why?” Eren asks again. 

Nobody speaks until Levi clears his throat impatiently, “When they find out you’re mated to an omega they’ll have to postpone the execution, at least for a few days. Enough time for Hanji and I to come up with evidence that proves your not a danger. That you can fight for humanity instead of against it. But you need to hurry now. It’s almost dawn, and we barely have time for this.” 

He gestures to where the two are holding hands. 

“There’s a rule,” Armin states, “That a bonded couple can’t be executed, no matter the crime. You can’t hurt a pack mate… and Eren you’re still considered to be a part of the Survey Corps. The harshest punishment they can give you is imprisonment because putting you to death will emotionally destroy your omega. That’s why the rule is in place. And Jean’s innocent. So the rule has to apply, otherwise they’ll be punishing an innocent omega just because of your crime.”

Eren absorbs this information with clenched fists and a twitch in his eye. “And this will work?”

“Probably not,” Levi says. “Not in the long run. Jean’s not valuable enough to distract from the crime. And the court officials are after blood, they want to show the people that they can control something dangerous. Prove their power.”

“So why even bother?” Jean whispers. Eren’s eyes flicker back to him, intense and challenging and almost frightening. Because Jean doesn’t know what he’s thinking. Doesn’t know whats going through his head. If he’s as scared as Jean is. Or if he’s mad. 

“Because, it’s going to buy us time,” Levi says angrily. “And we are running out.”

He goes over to the cell door and pulls a key from his belt, unlocking the cell door. It opens perhaps 4 inches before it’s stopped again by a chain linked around the cell wall and the door. So whoever locked Eren up here was so afraid that they reinforced the cell with a second lock. One that Levi obviously doesn’t have a key to. “Eren, push against it will you.” Levi orders, then looks over at Jean, “You’re going to slip through here.”

Eren walks over and presses obediently against the door, the chain link stains and groans in protest, but just below it there is a gap just big enough for Jean to slip through. It’s almost scarier than the entrance they walked through before. 

“Jean,” Levi grunts demandingly, and Armin nudges him gently in his back. 

“Come on,” he says. 

Jean doesn’t want to. But one minute he’s on the light side of the bars looking in at the dark cell, and the next he’s inside of it, staring at the desolate faces that brought him here. He can feel Eren’s body heat from where he’s standing not three feet away from him. Unnaturally warm in this icy prison. 

“Good thing you’re still as skinny as a runt,” Eren says, laughing awkwardly and Jean has the sudden urge to turn around and slap him.

“Fuck you Jaeger, you're really making a fucking joke right now?” he hisses instead. The fire in him burns a little more brightly, his anger fuelled as quick as always by the man in front of him. He turns to face Eren, looking up at him and completely ignoring the fact that before he didn’t even have to move his eyes to make eye contact. Now he has to crick his neck, tilt his chin just so he can see Eren’s face. 

Now that Jean’s standing next to him he can see up close the differences that everyone is talking about. Because the guys _is_ taller, much taller. And the rippling muscles certainly weren’t there before either. 

To say Jean’s suddenly intimidated would be an understatement because Eren’s obviously bigger than him. 

Stronger than him. 

Probably faster too. 

And he’s a fucking _Alpha_. 

He didn’t know Eren was this big. This scary. He kinda thought that he’d be mating with the scrawny kid that always picked fights with him and gave out loud and annoying speeches about bravery and shit. 

However, he finds it in himself that he can still be angry at this new Jaeger, even though he’s scared. 

He’s fucking beyond scared, he’s allowed to lash out if he wants. 

Levi takes the torch he’d brought in here from the holster Jean doesn't even remember him putting it in, and gives them a nod. “We’ll be back in a few hours at dawn. Just a warning, the Council aren’t going to like the fact that you’ve mated, but hopefully, they’re not dumb enough to separate you.” He gives them a stare, then smirks a little like all of this is humorous to him. “Good luck, I guess.”

He starts walking away then, giving the other two barely anytime to say goodbye. Armin just pats the bars, gives Jean a somewhat apologetic glance and Eren an even sorrier one, before tugging on Mikasa’s scarf. The girl hasn’t even looked at Jean, but she glares at him on her way out. 

And then they’re alone. It’s silent in their little cell, besides the shrieking and yelling from down the hall. Jean’s cold, suddenly. He shivers and wraps his arms around himself, mouth dry and lips chapped from the dry air. 

It’s cold, but at least it's not damp. 

Eren doesn’t say anything, and Jean refuses to look at him in case it spurs him on, so he keeps his eyes lowered and looks around the floor of the cell. It’s not very big, there’s a bucket in one corner and a low laying iron bed with a thin straw mattress in the other. 

So that’s where it's going to happen. Okay. Jean can do this, he can do this. He can-

“Why did you agree to this?” 

Jean startles, didn’t notice that Eren had gotten closer. He’s so tall that his head almost touches the ceiling. His clothes look small on him too, the pants riding up his calves and shirt stretching uncomfortably across the shoulders. In fact, some of the seams appear to have broken. 

Jean wants to laugh a little. He does. 

“What?” Eren asks a little defensive in the way he folds his arms. 

“Nothing. Your clothes are too small.”

Eren shrugs, “Yeah. It’s a titan thing.”

“Oh,” Jean holds himself tighter. “So it’s true then. That you can- that you turn…”

“Into a titan? Yeah. But it’s… it’s still me. I can still control myself, kinda.”

“Does it hurt?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

Eren steps closer again. “Jean,” he says softly, like Jean’s something flighty that could run at any moment. Jean doesn’t know why... it’s not like he had anywhere to run to. “Why do you agree to this?”

Why? Because they told him to. Because he’s the only one. Because this might be the only way he proves that he’s not some useless barren omega. That just because he can’t reproduce doesn’t mean he hasn’t got a purpose. That there’s meaning to his life, even if it’s just to become the timekeeper for a monster. 

“I don’t know…”

He hopes that the answer is accepted. He really, really doesn’t feel like going over his self-esteem and lack thereof right now at all. 

Eren sighs loudly and claps his hands. “Okay then. I guess I’m glad that it’s someone I know, at least. And that we don’t have to worry about you getting knocked up afterwards.”

That makes Jean flinch, hard. 

The anger that was just simmering before is back, completely disregarding the dangerous alpha and instead focusing on the ignorant idiot standing in front of him. “Are you fucking serious? Do you even know what this means? If you survive then we’re gonna have to spend the rest of our fucking lives together.” Eren, clearly taken aback, opens his mouth but Jean’s having none of it. “And before you ask, no, there is nobody else that can take my place. I’m the only one who they could get on such short notice that will successfully bond with you because I already have your stinking scent on me.”

Jean’s puffing, breathless, but he’s not done. 

“So don’t fucking talk about me being barren? Okay? I know my own flaws and defects. I’m not an idiot. But do not make fun of me for it. I don’t know what the fuck being in a bond and having a mate is supposed to be like, but I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to start in a fucking prison cell, with their first time be on a fucking straw mattress!” 

His voice cracks a little, and he has to look away to blink the sudden blurriness from his vision. 

This is so stupid. It’s basically an arranged marriage, why is he getting so worked up over this? It’s not a big deal. Hell, before this Jean wasn’t even sure if he would find a mate… but at least he would have been free to hang out with who he wanted. Marco will probably still be his friend after this. 

Jesse, he’s going to be so shocked when he hears about this. He’s going to lose it, probably apologise for not being there. And Jean will piss and moan about it before giving in and forgiving him. 

“So let’s just fucking get this over with,” Jean says finally, composing himself somewhat. He walks over to the end of the bed and sits down indignantly on it. He’s still in his nightshirt and shorts and already feels incredibly vulnerable. He doesn’t even want to begin imagining what it’s going to be like being completely naked… maybe he could keep his shirt on? “I’m keeping my shirt on?” 

It wasn’t meant to be a question, but it came out small and hesitant like one. Eren shrugs his shoulders, starts unbuttoning his stupid too small uniform. “That's fine.”

“I know,” Jean sneers, stupidly. A translucent effort to remain in control really. Eren doesn’t respond as he starts removing his pants and underwear, still a couple feet from the bed. He doesn’t seem nervous, but then again he’s unusually silent and hasn’t looked Jean in the eye yet since his little outburst. 

Jean removes his shorts shakily, pulling down his nightshirt so it covers his private parts, thanking whatever fucked up deity that got them into this mess in the first place that they at least allowed this small comfort of giving Jean a long enough nightshirt to achieve some form of modesty. 

And then Eren’s standing over him. Naked. And Jean’s staring at what is possibly the biggest dick in the fucking world. The words Titan Sized comes into mind like a bad joke, and Jean actually whimpers at the thought because _fuck…_ that’s not gonna fucking fit. That’s… it’s not even _erect_ … there’s more… He seriously hopes that Eren’s a shower not a grower. 

“Um,” he squeaks and looks up at Eren, who’s looking down at him apprehensively. 

Jean’s not even going to think about the layers of toned muscles and tanned skin his eyes had to bypass just to reach Eren’s. Not when Jean’s there looking like a fucking walking skeleton in comparison. “Are you sure about this?” Jean asks, both to himself and Eren. 

“No,” Eren says. “But i-i don’t want to die…”

Of course he doesn’t. And neither do Mikasa, Armin or Levi want him to die either. They need Eren, _humanity_ needs Eren. And Eren needs him, at least for now.

Jean lays back on the bed. Closes his eyes. “Okay… how do you want me.”

Above him Eren seems to choke a little. “I’m so sorry Jea-“

“Shut up. Answer the fucking question.”

There’s a depression in the bed where Eren kneels on it, the space around Jean suddenly warmer from Eren’s unnatural body heat. “I guess,” he says, “Maybe on your knees. I-I can reach your neck easier that way.”

Jean takes a deep breath. He can do this. For humanity right? He’s not good for anything else. He stiffly turns over onto his knees, puts his elbows and head on the mattress once he realises his arms are shaking too much to hold him up. “Okay,” he whispers dryly. 

Neither of them say anything after that. Eren spits in his hand and after much hesitation and insistence, probes into him gently. And yeah, fuck, that feels weird. It's the most invase thing Jean's ever felt, making his skin crawl and flare up with goosebumps. It’s not long after that he feels the blunt yet incredibly large head of his dick nudge against him that he starts to sniffle quietly as possible into his arms. 

Because it _hurts._

It hurts so fucking badly and there’s nothing he can do. 

Eren pants overhead, “Jean, I don’t think it’s gonna fit. I-I think I need to prepare you more.”

“Just do it,” Jean grits. Bites on his arm to hold back the scream that materialises in his lungs when Eren suddenly thrusts forward, shoving all of himself inside in one go. Jean can’t breath… it’s too much, he can’t breathe… 

Thank god Eren waits, just stays right where he is and doesn’t move because Jean wouldn’t handle it if he started to do anything else. He feels the razor-sharp incisor teeth graze against the back of his neck, light and wet, accompanied by Eren’s heavy breathing drumming against the shell of his ear. A thin layer of sweat coats along Jean’s spine and shoulder ridge where Eren’s body makes contact. 

“O-Okay?” Eren grunts into his neck, the soft insecurity of his voice contrasting with the carnal, animalistic way his hands' rove and wander across his skin, in the way his jaw hovers just over the claiming spot on his neck. 

“M’kay...” Jean moans in response. Unintentionally of course, but Eren starts to thrust, hitting on that sweet spot all omegas have and Jean’s not willing to fight it. Why would he? Anything that makes this experience less of the nightmare it is.

There’s a sudden squishing sound when Eren thrusts, and Jean feels the back of his legs get warm and wet. 

Eren stops thrusting, pulls his teeth back from the crook of the omega’s neck, straightens up on his knees to the cold air of the cell cools against the sweat on their backs, “Um Jean?”

“What?” Jean says into the mattress, beginning once again to shiver. He sniffs loudly. 

“You’re wet. Like your soaked. Is this- Is this _normal?_ ”

Jean looks underneath him, and sure enough, his thighs are glistening in the low firelight from down the hall. “It’s slick,” he says. 

Eren shuffles on his knees, “Is this supposed to happen? I thought only chicks did this-“

“I’m still a fucking omega, dumbass!” Jean growls. 

Why the fuck is Eren trying to drag this out? Jean knows he doesn’t want to mate with him, but it’s not like they really have a choice anymore. It’s either that or they both die, because Jean’s locked in here too now, and the guards in the morning aren’t just going to ignore that he’s trespassed and broken into the cell of a man on death row. Oh god, they’ll probably hang him too. 

Eren starts to move again, a little faster now that the slick makes it easier to thrust in and out. It becomes increasingly harder for Jean to keep quiet, having to bite hard on his wrist to stop himself from crying out, least the maniacs down the hall hear them. They’ve become quiet suddenly like they’re almost trying to listen in. Maybe he’s just paranoid, but fuck it if his nerves aren’t shot to shit right now and he doesn’t want anybody listening to him moan. 

He feels sick. 

The canine teeth are back at his throat, grazing harder against his skin. Jean bears his neck, squeezing his eyes tightly. There is almost a full 30 seconds of nothing but the wet slap of Eren’s pelvis against Jean’s ass, and Jean’s occasional shudder as he holds down a sob. 

He feels something drip against his ear, feels the liquid drip down to his upper lip. He licks at it and tastes salt. At first, he thinks its sweat, before he hears the half choked, “ _I’m sorry_ ,” against his neck that he realises it’s tears. 

“I’m sorry,” Eren chokes again. Jean gets the feeling it’s not an apology for him, not in the way Eren grips his hips like a lifeline, and needily curls over his body like he’s hugging a much abused stuffed toy. If he were apologising to Jean, he'd be gentle about it, wouldn't he?

So no, it’s not for him, yet still he replies. “It’s okay.”

Then Eren bites down. 

And Jean passes out. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Eren doesn’t notice Jean’s limp until he’s pulled his fangs from his neck. Bloody and tingly. It leaves a sour, metallic taste in his mouth that he spits to the ground to the side. He’s still thrusting inside Jean, in that tight, hot, and incredibly wet hole Jean’s reluctantly let him into.

In all of the people who would volunteer themselves to do this, Jean didn’t even cross his mind. The guy is such a little prick, never smiling at anyone who isn't that freckled kid Marco. Out of everyone in survery Eren would have argued with him the most, by a landslide. They're just so different. Jean is a self-preserving coward who really only looks out for himself and his interests, and Eren's got what Armin calls a 'Hero Complex'... which Eren would never admit that he quite likes being called that. 

Perhaps that's part of the reason why he was so surprised to see Jean standing on the other side of the bars and not anyone else. 

He wasn’t even aware the boy was an omega until a few weeks ago when a couple of the older scouts were jeering and poking fun at him in the cafeteria. 

They were shouting revolting things. Cock Slut. Bitch Boy. Fuck Toy. 

Eren couldn’t figure out who they were talking to until he saw Jean, just a couple seats down from him sitting hunched over by himself, actually flinch when one of them shouted Barren at him. That’s when Eren, not exactly the brightest flame in the fire but were told by many that he’s definitely the hottest, suddenly puts two and two together and realises that Jean’s a fucking omega. 

The table of assholes are sneering those names at Jean, who whilst might also be an asshole and way too obnoxious for his own good, is still Eren’s teammate. Still part of the 104th. Eren’s wasn’t going to stand for someone from his legion get verbally attacked. 

He glares at the scouts, tells them to “Fucking cut it out, will you? Just leave him alone.”

They ignore him, obviously. Barely giving him a side glance. Jean, still hunched and staring determinedly down at slop of grey porridge posing as breakfast actually fucking glares at _him_ like all this is _Eren’s fault_ , so he gives up. Lets the asshole be bullied out of the cafeteria. 

Fuck it, if Jean doesn’t want his help then fine, he doesn’t get it. 

Except now here he is, under him and unmoving as Eren slowly thrusts into him, the fevered urge to _claim claim claim_ is gone now that Eren’s marked his territory and created the bond. He moves to pull out except he can’t, like he’s- oh, right... 

His knot. The thing he’s now going to get once a month, just like Jean’s going to go into heat once a month. Fuck. 

It all happened so quickly that Eren’s mind is still racing to catch up. 

It seems like only yesterday that he was having dinner and laughing along with Connie and Armin, with Mikasa sitting silently next to him, close enough to feel her warmth… he’s not going to have that again. Because now he’s in jail. Now he’s a fucking monster and everyone is scared of him. 

Now he’s going to be put to death. They had to come up with a plan, the captain said he would get him out of this. 

But this doesn’t seem right. 

His mother had always told him that she’d never force him into an arranged marriage. 

“It’s cruel,” she would say, flour smeared across her cheek as she kneaded her palms furiously into the dough on the table top. “Love doesn’t work like that.”

Eren, barely able to see over the tabletop, climbs up onto a stool and rests his chin in his hands. “Were you and dad a forced marriage?”

He remembers his mother pausing then, a serene, peaceful smile crossing her face that Eren thought made her look like the prettiest girl in the world. She tucks a stray brown curl behind her ear demurely, “No, we got married the right way. We fell in love first. Your father took me out on a late night date in spring, right at the beginning of firefly season,”

She clumps the dough into a frumpy ball. “We had the whole field by ourselves because everyone thought it was too cold for fireflies, except your father knew of a little nook under a weeping willow, where it was warm enough for them to hide in and fly. It was magical. Who knew that under willows is where the fireflies hide? Hm?”

Eren misses her. He misses her like nothing else. But he’s glad she’s not around to watch him become the monster he is. Her death haunts him most nights, where he wakes up in a cold sweat, eyes irritated and breathing shallow. 

He just want’s to see her smile like that again. His mother didn’t often. She was a happy woman, Eren hopes, but she had a very serious aura about her, the no-nonsense type that gave her the edge to hold down the house by herself when his father would spend weeks at times on the road, even though she was an omega. 

Jean whines gently underneath him, shifting a little and tugging on Eren’s knot. “ _Ow…_ ” he cries softly, pitifully, and Eren has to bite his tongue so he doesn't hiss at him to stop moving. “ _Hurts_ ,” Jean cries again. 

“I know.”

“Stop it then.”

“Can’t.”

“Why?”

“Knot.”

Jean gives up after that, seemingly falling back into unconsciousness. Eren’s kinda jealous. What he wouldn’t give to  _not_  be here right now. 

He hates that this is his only choice, to mate with somebody he doesn’t even like, let alone _love,_ just to buy him extra time. Whats a few days of the bond being useful compared to the lifetime of them resenting it. 

But the catch is, the bond is the only reason Eren’s going to get a lifetime to do anything, assuming that this plan works. Eren’s not hopeful. He’s resigned if anything. Fully expecting to be put to death in the morning, no matter what Mikasa and Armin believe. 

Levi’s a captain, but he’s going up against the council. And Eren may have helped out with the breach in the wall, but he’s still an unpredictable variable, even to himself. His merger control on his new set of abilities isn’t enough to prove that he’s trainable, or that he can be weaponised by the council, like Levi’s trying to persuade. 

It’s not going to work, but now they’ve gone and brought in another person to suffer along with him, in turn just delaying the inevitable. 

He doesn’t want them to hurt. Can’t stand the lost look in Armin’s eyes, nor the betrayal in Mikasas. 

It’s incredible that she approved of this plan, proving once again that she really would do anything for him, even give up her chance at love. 

When she first started living with them Eren wasn’t sure how to treat her, if she was a sister or what. Eventually, he figured that she was just a friend that was staying over in an endless sleepover. 

She was a friend, then when they started getting older, a potential mate. “She’s got a crush on you my son,” his father told him once when they were travelling to the outskirts of the wall. “Make sure that if you aren’t able to handle it that you let her down gently. A persons first love is important. Treat it delicately, no matter who they are.”

Eren had decided that he never wanted to let her down, so they entertained the idea of bonding when they both came of age. A future of fighting passionately for humanity and each other, to settle down when they’re old and crippled from the army, somewhere peaceful and quiet. A couple of kids, grandkids… a family.  

Perhaps he can still do that, but now he has Jean. Who practically hates him, he had thought. So why is he here?  Perhaps he really was the only one. He’s the only male omega Eren knows, but that isn’t surprising. There's not many around, and Eren's never stepped foot into a church... his parents refused to let him. 

Eren’s been to many births before in his life, his father being a doctor and all. Multiple times he’s been sent away from the room as a couple breaks down at the news their child is both a boy and omega. 

He’s aware now of what it means when the crying stops, both the mother and childs. What the look on his fathers face means when he leaves the room and numbly packs his gear away, shielding Eren’s line of vision from the slightly ajar doorway. 

“Everyone is born for a reason son. Don’t you forget that. It’s not fair to think of someone is lesser just because they were born a certain way.”

He watches his fathers knuckles turn white around the reins of the horse and cart. 

“If you give me any child, no matter what gender, then it will be a blessing, understand? Any child you have will be a blessing.”

However, Eren’s not going to have any children, because Jean’s as barren as a rock. Unable to give him anything but a once a month satisfaction to his knot. It’s almost poetic, how the unwanted gravitate to each other. Nobody wants to mate a barren omega, and nobody wants to even be in the same room as a monster. 

“I’m so sorry.”

He whispers it into the blonde hair on his new mates head, manoeuvring them both so they’re resting sideways, still knotted but so Eren’s more comfortable, and not staining by holding himself up in order to not crush the sleeping omega. 

And he really would crush him, like a twig, because that’s basically what Jean is. The omega, in traditional terms, is often thin and small. Delicate, whilst the Alpha is the one granted with muscle and strength. 

Eren certainly has that, although only recently. He’s still getting used to this new titan of a body. 

But Jean is incredibly thin, his shoulder blades pointed and spine sticking out even though the shirt he’s wearing to poke against Eren’s abdomen. There are shadows in the hollows of his cheeks, under those razor-sharp cheekbones. The emphasised more by the low firelight. 

Maybe he’s not eating enough? Or maybe it’s just his genetics. 

Whatever it is, it’s no wonder he can’t produce children, Eren thinks as he gently encircles Jean’s wrist with his thumb and forefinger. Tiny. Not like Armin or Krista, but there’s defiantly a certain, fine-boned and breakable feeling to it that makes Eren tread with a gentleness he’s surprised he can actually achieve. 

He rubs his calloused thumb against Jean’s smooth pale skin. He doesn’t dare go further than the exposed part of his hand peeking out of the fabric, even though he’s found himself slightly curious as what could be under the long-sleeved nightshirt his mate is wearing. 

It’s finally, properly quiet in the cell now, the other cellmates finally asleep and no longer crying or screaming. As a replacement, the soft morning twitter of birdlife can just be made out through the stones of the cell walls, cheerful and erratic. 

Eren want’s to get out of here. He want’s to get his mate out of here. He feels the urge to lean over Jean and cover him but holds himself back. It’s just the bond, there’s no actual threat… god, this is going to get annoying if he feels like he has to protect Jean at every fucking moment.

Likewise if Jean is going to be _submitting_ to him. 

With a physical shake of his head, he clears his thoughts. Doesn't wanna think about that right now, just want’s to curl up around Jean and sleep. Maybe forever. Jean isn’t who he wants, but he’s still familiar and soft and nice to touch. Plus he smells like Eren now, which is probably pissing the omega off but Eren honestly finds it a little funny. Maybe it's the bond, but he quite likes the idea of the omega walking around smelling like him, letting people know exactly who his Alpha is. 

His knot hasn’t gone down much, but surely it will at some point, they don’t usually last for long. 

Then again this is his first knot, _and_ he’s a titan shifter. So along with the physical changes brought upon him maybe stamina is one of them too.

This whole situation is so fucked. He doesn’t even really know this kid, and now he’s mated to him. _Forever_. How the _hell_ did they get Jean to agree to this? Maybe he was just desperate to find a mate… seeing that this was his only chance to find an alpha that would be willing to look past his fault of being barren. 

But then he hangs around that Marco guy, who Eren actually likes. He’d thought the two of them were already mated when he first met them. Marco’s a nice guy, would make a good Alpha to someone like Jean, who’s prissy and stubborn. Not that Jean would deserve a guy like him, the fucking prick. 

God, he’s fucking bonded to an _actual asshole_. Jean’s loud, snarky and annoying when he’s in a good mood and sulky and emotional when he’s not. This is what Eren will be fucking dealing with for the rest of his life if they survive this. 

Eren looks down at his new mate, at the sharp cheekbones and hollowed out eyes. Looking every bit as exhausted as Eren feels right now. He sighs, suddenly beyond tired, and lays his head down onto the mattress, Jean having stolen majority of the single pillow offered on the bed. 

Eren can feel the tension blissfully drain from his body second by second, leaving him exhausted and numb. He’s too tired to ignore his instincts and curls closer around Jean, arm looping over Jean’s slim waist and enclosing him in the safe space between his chest and arms. It makes him feel better, to know his newly bonded omega is safe, that he’s protecting him. 

 _Nothing can touch him_ , he thinks. _I won't let anything touch him. He's mine._ Somewhere deep inside of him, somewhere foreign and untouched rumbles and purrs at the thought. 

It clearly resonates with Jean too, even when unconscious, because for the first time since the omega has been here, the terrible scent of fear, anxiety and stress isn’t dominating the cell they're trapped in. He smells and feels like _comfort_ , which Eren isn’t going to lie to himself by saying that it’s not exactly what he needs right fucking now. 

 So he buries his nose in Jean’s neck and immerses his senses in the calming pheromones Jean’s releasing, letting himself get swept away in them, eyes slipping closed peacefully. 

Whatever they’re in for, at least they’re in it together.


	2. These Trials We Face

Eren wakes to the sound of jingling keys and swearing. Immediately his eyes fling open, something wild and aggressive in them as he growls in the direction of the cell door. He throws his body further over his mates, pressing the smaller boy into the mattress and waking him up with a scream. 

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger, _ow!”_

Eren ignores him, keeps him trapped between his arms as he glares at the two guards staring at him from the doorway, eyes wide enough that the whites of them stand out against the dim lighting. Jean struggles underneath him, eyes wide and incredulous as he’s startled awake, but Eren’s stronger than him and easily keeps him where he wants him. 

Which right now, is safe. He want’s him safe.

_Keep him safe. He's your mate. Keep him safe_ , runs through his head, a mantra that he’s too sleep-fogged to break. 

“Oh fuck,” one of the guards says. “Shit. _Shit!_ ”

Eren recognises him. Shaved head, scraggly goatee underneath straight teeth tinged yellow. He’s seen his face around before this, usually trying to chat up the young girl scouts and get them to do ‘ _special training_ ’ with him. 

Ymir, who’s probably one of the scariest Alpha Eren has ever encountered, had actually agreed to one of these ‘special trainings’ only so she could give the guy a hefty black eye and an array of bruises, making it very clear _“the little blondie with the big eyes is off limits, unless you want to be permanently sterilised.”_

Eren decided that if anyone from humanity is going to get eaten, it should be that guy. It also makes his chest lighten to see the man still has the lingering effects of burst blood vessels in his eye from Ymirs right hook. 

“What do we do?” The other guard, another Alpha probably not much older than Eren with a chubby babyface and a scent that reeks of nerves asks worriedly. “What do we tell the Commander? This is bad, we can’t-“

“Go get him,” the creepy one orders. 

“Who?” 

“Commander Erwin, you dumb fuck!” Creepy shouts, waving his hand. 

Babyface bows his head and runs off, taking his nervous scent with him. He’s awfully timid for an Alpha, the titan-shifter thinks. 

Eren stares at the remaining man through the bars, unblinking. Jean releases another slur of hissed swears and Eren clasps a hand over his mouth. “Shut up,” he growls lowly so only the omega can hear him. Jean is still tense under him, and Eren can feel his smaller body shifting slightly like he’s preparing to take off in his 3DMG gear, poised for take-off. 

He can’t have Jean kicking up a fuss right now, not when there’s another Alpha staring at them not ten feet away. Why the fuck is the omega making it so hard to keep him safe?

Eren decided to settle his full weight on Jean, so the omega _literally_ doesn’t have the room nor breath to be a nuisance right now. He feels more in control when Jean goes slack under him, but Eren can still feel his glare piercing into his chin

Still, he refuses to look away from the newest threat standing just on the other side of the bars. 

Creepy stares him down, face breaking into a toothy smile that makes him look even creepier. 

“So, this is your plan huh?”

Eren remains silent. The creeps grin spreads wider on over his face, eyes squinted into beady slits as they flicker up and down the bed frame. 

“At least you didn’t bond with a chick… Wouldn’t want your monster kind reproducing ?”

The harsh growl that erupts from deep within Eren’s chest was unanticipated, surprising both Eren and Jean, but it made the Creep back away from the bars glance nervously at down the hallway. Eren didn’t know where that growl came from, but he could feel the way it hurt Jean, like Jean’s emotions had somehow transferred over to him very briefly. 

If Eren wasn’t hours away from being executed he might have thought the fact over it a little more. 

The commander appears not minutes later, surrounded by five or so other Legion officials, Captain Levi being one of them. They all stare into the cell, expressions slowly morphing from disbelieving to disgusted and disapproving. Eren’s glad for the blanket that covers his modesty and that Jean refused to take his shirt off. He doesn't want these people looking at him or his mate.  

“Well,” Commander Erwin says, a tiny smile on the corner of his mouth breaking his stoic visage ever so slightly, “This certainly changes things up.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

The trial is postponed.

Eren and Jean are to remain in the cell until that time. Jean’s not happy about it, is not looking forward to the full weight of what he’s done to hit him, which is bound to while they sit in silence and have nothing to do but talk or inwardly contemplate… and Jean’s not fond of talking with Eren, nor listening to anything the Alpha has to say. 

He sits on the far corner of the room with his arms crossed, back to Eren, shivering from the cold night air. 

“Just... come sit on the bed, it’s warmer.” The Alpha has the audacity to sound exasperated about it.

“No.”

He can’t _see_ Eren rolling his eyes, but somehow he just _knows_ it’s what he does. 

He can feel a lot of Eren related things actually… besides the sore tenderness in his ass and the fucking aching in his neck that is. Beyond that, he’s sure he can feel Eren in a different type of way, keeps sneaking looks over at the Alpha to see if the feelings mutual. 

It’s like he can feel the other's mood, like he knows when he gets angry, or tired, or sleepy. Knows when he gets that small spike of fear that he’s probably thinking about the execution, knows that when he gets melancholy and sad that he’s probably thinking about Mikasa. 

It’s soft, barely noticeable unless you’re actually looking for it, but it’s there. Different from scenting, more focused, and detailed. 

Ugh, this was exactly the type of stuff Jean _didn’t_ want to think about. 

“Jean,” Eren says. 

Jean ignores him, petulantly staring at a crack on the wall that looks suspiciously like the letter J… for Jaeger?

_Nope_ , no, he is not going to be that sappy, love-struck person that sees their mate in everything. _No fucken way_. For one, they aren’t in love. And two… it’s _Eren_. Jean would prefer to not see him at all. 

“Jean.”

“I’d rather not.”

Eren pauses, “Not what?”

“Talk to you. Stop saying my name.”

“Jean.”

“Stop it.”

“Jean.”

“Stop.”

“Make me.”

Jean twists around to level Eren with a stare that could rival Levi’s. Eren shakes his head, huffing. “We should really talk,” he tries again and Jean want’s to slam his head into the wall in front of him. 

“About what?” he seethes instead. 

“Like, I don’t know,” Eren says, then follows it up with a sheepish, “Maybe we should get to know each other better. I honestly don’t know much about you, other than that you're an omega. And you’re friends with Marco. He’s a cool guy. You two seem close, are you from the same village?”

“No.” Marco's from Jinae. 

“Oh. What village are you from? I’m from Shiganshina.”

“Yeah, I know.” He wouldn’t shut up about it when they first met, back in the early days of their cadet training. Jean would roll his eyes at Marco every time he heard the then scrawny kid go on and on about how terrifying they were, and how they ruined his city. Which, yes, would be fucking scary if you were 13 and the titans literally killed your mother in front of you… but he just didn’t stop _lecturing_ them on it. 

It was interesting the first time he heard the story, but after the 30th time in the first 3 days Jean, never an incredibly compassionate person, especially for an omega, had been sick of hearing about it. 

“So where are you from again?” Eren re-asks. And fuck, the guy's persistent. 

He just wouldn’t drop it, would he? “Trost district, I guess. Or a little ways off it. Tiny village called Reims. You probably won’t know-“

“Half a days ride from Trost, built next to the Krenau River.”

Honestly, Jeans a little impressed. Enough to turn around and look at the Alpha. “The fuck? How-“

“My dad was a travelling doctor. He ah, he used to take me with him sometimes. Never specifically to Reims, but we passed through it a couple times. Dad also used to have a huge map on his wall and it was fun to hear him point at things and tell sorties of where he’d been.” There’s a smile to his voice, his teeth flashing white as he chuckles. 

“He always said Trost was a hick town. Stuck in their ways. He said the closer you got to the king the more traditional and uptight people were. I suppose that's why he stayed close to Maria, even when he got better job offers closer to the kingdom.”

That’s interesting to know. “Must have been peaceful,” Jean says unintentionally, and jerks when he realises he’s spoken aloud. “I mean, for a dumb city on the edge of the outer wall.”

Eren laughs because he’s an insane fucker. “Yeah, till the Titans came in.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

They sit in silence for a few more hours. Jean’s ass, which has been throbbing uncomfortably ever since… since the did it. The only reason he’s sitting down now is because he’s tired of standing and pacing, and the hardness of the floor, while painful, is starting to numb it. Well, the hardness and the fact that the floor feels like it’s made from fucking ice. 

“Why’s it so fucking cold in here?” he mutters under his breath, jerking slightly when there’s a visible fog manifesting from his lips. _Jesus Christ_. 

What annoys him the most is that he knows Eren can’t feel it, from the way he’s lounging on the bed and blanket like it’s the middle of fucking summer. God, why do the cells have to be so fucking cold! Couldn’t they just make them out of wood, or something a little more heat preserving than the literal _stone_ that seeps the heat from your body?

“Are you sure you don’t want to sit on the bed?” He hears Eren say. “I-I won’t touch you if that's what you're worried about.”

“It’s not.” But it kind of is. 

Jean’s only experience with Alphas is that they’re mean and demanding. The closest he’d gotten to an Alpha before, besides Marco and the others in the Army, is his mothers' neighbour Mr Sear, and he was- Jean doesn’t have fond memories of him. When he was young, perhaps seven or so, he remembers his mother violently telling Mr Sear to “Stay the hell away from him Hugo.”

Hugo, burly and every inch looking like the woodcutter he is in plaid, complete with long brown beard and hair covered arms, smiled. “Can’t keep him locked away forever Flora. Boy’s an _omega_ , he’s gotta find a mate someday. Why not one that’ll keep him close to ya, for little visits.”

“He’s seven,” his mother spits, pushing Jean behind her skirts and out of sight of the Alpha. 

“So? What’s that got to do with anything? It’s not like he has a _maturing ag_ e. The boy’s as ready as he’ll ever be. Plus, he’s not got a whole lot of suitors lining up. You best be grateful I’m even offering, hm?”

He remembers his mother looking downright disgusted at that. Remembers going back inside the house and getting frantically shaken by his shoulders and his mother told him desperately, “You don’t let anyone mate you till you’re at least 14, you hear me?”

The thought of Mr Sear still makes his insides curdle, makes bile rise in his throat. Because he’s old enough now to understand that the man was willing to mate with a fucking seven-year-old _child_ , even when he already had a wife and two kids both around Jean’s age at the time. It’s sickening, and the only reason he would have done it was for pleasure. According to the law, he wouldn’t have had to wait for Jean to reach 'maturing age' either, because he wasn’t a girl, he didn’t have ‘periods’ because he didn’t have a fucking uterus. 

Hugo was the worst, but thankfully he was the only one that took it as far. All the other Alphas he’s met just sneer at him. Which is fine, Jean’s good at sneering back, even if it gets him into trouble. 

Countless times he’s been dragged to his mother's feet by one of the village Alphas, lecturing about respect and obedience and _know your place._

His mother had never said anything to him about it, never really reprimanded him on the matter. Just locked him in his room without supper. Maybe in the morning, before she holed herself away in her knitting room, she’d kneel down next to him at the breakfast table and ask, “Do you know your place, Jean?”

She’d looked at him in the eyes then, for the first time in months, beseechingly. Her palm raised to cup his cheek. Skin cold, like a corpse. The ring on her finger almost warmer than any other part of her body. 

He was almost 10 years old and becoming more and more resentful of his gender combination by the day. “Yes,” he’d said bitterly. Perhaps too bitter for such an age, but warranted none the less. “Make sure you listen. Submit, always do as-“

“-you’re told,” his mother finishes. “Good.”

Afterwards, she went to hide away, and Jean didn’t see her for days. 

He zones back about of his thoughts when he hears footsteps coming down the hallway.

Automatically he stands and backs away from the cell door to the bed where Eren has risen, because it smells safer, and feels safer over there from this new potential threat. Because Eren is there and his scent is beckoning him to get behind him so he’s easier to protect.

Jean’s slightly annoyed by the compulsive feeling and the way Eren stands in front of him, chest puffed and feet apart likes he’s going to fight someone though the bars. 

So he moves away, glaring at the newcomers and trying to appear like he's not some weakling. 

The bond is still much too fresh for him to even think about denying a direct, instinctive order from his Alpha, so he still stays slightly behind him. 

Eren spares him a warning glance as a light appears at the end of the hall, like Jean might think about doing something stupid… what he could possibly imagine Jean achieving right now is beyond him.

He’s tired and sore and incredibly overwhelmed, and the bed is warm from where Eren’s be laying on it, and it even smells like him which, fuck, is really soothing. 

_Goddamit._

Eren’s shoulders drop when he sees the three faces on the other side of the bars. It’s Mikasa, Levi, and another woman Jean doesn’t recognise with glasses on her head. Eren runs towards the bars and clasps Mikasa’s face in his hands, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Hey."

"Did you do it." She asks, but from the uncomfortable look on her face, it's like she already knows. Can probably smell it on them. 

“We- I-I’m sorry," Eren whispers. 

Jean keeps his eyes to the ground, feels a fool when the feeling of jealousy rises in him. He’s successful at holding down the petty little growl that rises up in him. It’s triggered by the sight of his new mate touching another person so soon after their bond, especially so intimately. But he has to remember that he’s not here to act like a happy mated partner, he’s here to act as a reason - an excuse - for Eren’s freedom. 

This is not a bonding, this is a task, an assigned position. A fucking _chore_ really. 

His smell betrays him, and Eren backs away from the dark haired girl somewhat ruefully, offering a shrug and a what-can-you-do smile that doesn’t ease Jean nor Mikasa about the situation. Jean crosses his arms and tries to reign himself in a little more, but feels better now that Eren’s not making physical contact with her. 

“So what’s the news?” Eren asks. 

Levi holds the lantern up higher, his face bored. “They’ve withdrawn the possibility of an execution. Jean’s record is clean enough and his skill with 3DMG gear just good enough so far that Erwin’s convinced them it would be a bigger loss to the army to have his stability compromised. Plus, Hanji’s convinced them that the two of you could make a great potential duo.”

“In theory,” the woman speaks up. Jean assumes she’s the scientist Hanji that is supposed to help rescue them. “Most of the time it’s a disadvantage to have your mate out in the field with you. It’s a distraction with too many variables. However, I feel that we could use this to our advantage.”

“How?” Jean asks, and for some reason, the room falls silent. Not eerie, but nobody says anything until Eren calmly repeats his question. 

“How?”

Hanji pushes her glasses further up her nose. “Well, based on the limited information we have on Mr Jaegers new abilities, and what we know of bonds in general, we could say that the control Eren has can be spurred on by what happens to the omega. Perhaps a threat to him could trigger a shift, or intensify the bond and create an easier way to communicate or-“

“Hanji, enough,” Levi says. 

The scientist doesn’t appear phased at being off so rudely, saying excitedly, “There’s just so many possibilities! So many new theories to trial-“

Jean doesn’t like the sound of that, and he feels that Eren doesn’t like the sound of that either. The stiffness in his chest makes him feel compelled to be closer to his mate, to reassure him. Unconsciously he stands and moves so he’s standing just behind him, the cold stone floor slapping against his bare feet. 

Hanji seems to finally take notice of him now, stepping forward and peering into the cell so far her nose pokes through. “Oh, would you look at that. How interesting.”

What the fuck is so interesting? He want’s to snap, but is honestly too frightened to engage with this person who seems so keen on knowing everything about them. Perhaps he should be grateful that she’s willing to help but… but she’s weird, and she smells like… smells like…

Nothing. She’s _scentless._

_What the fuck?_

“Already they’re showing signs of considerable habitual coalition.”

Jean watches as Levi rolls his eyes and yank the scentless woman away from the bars by her cape.  “Stop it, we should leave. We still have death reports to sign from the Breach.”

The breach, that reminds him. _"Marco..."_

Jean rushes forward, near slamming against the bars. He’s quick enough to dodge the arm his Alpha throws out to stop him from moving forward. “H-Have you seen him? Has he returned yet? Can you- Can you tell him what happened?”

Again, he’s met with silence. He whines angrily, slamming his fist against the bars. “Tell me! Please, I just-“ He tries to make eye contact with them, any of them, except the only one who will look at him is Levi, the others are looking at Eren like they’re waiting for him to speak. 

Jean looks at Eren too. “I need to know,” he begs. It’s unclear to him why he’s begging to Eren of all people but he feels like Eren’s the only one who’s paying attention to him, the only one willing to listen. It’s a terrifying feeling. The small amount of control Jean thought he had left over the situation is steadily dwindling… they’re not looking at him like they need him anymore, nor are they looking at him gratefully. In fact, they’re not even looking at him at all… ‘

The only one looking at him is Eren.

The alpha stares at him, thick eyebrows narrowed in what Jean assumes is confusion before he rolls his shoulders, turning his head towards Mikasa as he asks, “Have you seen him? Tall freckled kid who leant us his water canister that one time.”

Mikasa shakes her head. Her arms are folded tightly across her chest once again. Jean mirrors her. 

His stomach feels like it’s literally dropped through the floor. He backs away from the bars, closer to Eren, the seemingly only source of warmth in this fucking ice cube of a cell. “A-Are you sure?” he stammers. 

He’s ignored. _Still._

When they leave, the cell is unbearably quiet. Not even the usual noises that swell up when visitors approach are there… in fact, the other prisoners might not even be there anymore. They’re on death row too, after all. 

It's so fucking quiet. And all Jean can think about is how nobody seemed to hear him. 

And how nobody seemed to see him. 

Or Marco. Nobody has seen him either. Jean shouldn’t be fucking thinking of himself when he doesn’t even know if Marco is safe or not. Mikasa said she hadn’t seen him but-but that doesn’t mean he’s not around. The scouting legion isn’t so small as to know everyone and everything that goes on in it. Plus, Marco might still be in the city, helping out. Maybe he’s been stationed out there temporarily as a show of protection for the people, at least until the panic dies down. 

He’s probably looking for Jean too. Maybe. Even though there are more important things to worry about, but Marco is the type of person to check up on his friends. Jean just hopes that someone told him he was alive at least. Connie would have probably told him. Even though he can’t tell him exactly where Jean is, because nobody really knows that, but hopefully just the fact that he’s been seen alive after the attack will be enough for Marco to stop worrying. 

“Jean? Are you okay?” Eren’s hands are hovering just over the omegas shoulders, hesitant like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch him or not. Evidently, he decides not, because he drops his hands much to Jean’s relief. “You’re shaking.”

Yes, he is. Jean sucks in a deep breath. Closes his eyes. _Stop thinking about it… stop panicking._

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t feel fine.”

Ah, so Eren can feel him too. That’s… somewhat comforting, the fact that Jean’s not some crazy person thinking he can feel shit that's not there. But it’s also weird. Jean will have to decide later if he’s annoyed by that. If it’s an invasion of privacy. 

“I’m just cold,” he says, which is true, but not the answer to the question. He doesn’t want to talk about Marco right now. 

Eren clearly does though, because he says, “I’m sure your friend Marco will be okay.”

The cold of the tiles is starting to hurt Jean’s feet, burning them in the way only ice can. “Thanks,” he responds faintly, not looking up. It seems to be getting colder by the second. Probably because it’s becoming nightfall… or maybe it already is. Jean wishes he could just pop his head outside and find out… just to get that little bit of fresh air he’s so desperate for. 

“Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“I’m just fucking cold okay! What the fuck is your problem?” Jean yells, glaring at his alpha. 

Eren takes a step towards him, arms out and ushering him towards the bed, “Come on, hope into bed then.”

“I’m not taking orders from you.”

“Your feet are literately fucking blue right now man, come on.”

Jean maybe holds out for another minute, until he obeys and climbs in, warily watching as Eren climb into the bed after him, somewhat surprised when the Alpha puts his head down the other end of the bed. He would have thought that he’d be up this end with Jean but… but maybe it’s better this way. No, it is better this way. What the fuck is Jean thinking? Why would he want Eren’s ugly ass face anywhere near his own? 

At least under the blanket it’s warmer, and Eren’s like a furnace. Like he has fire in his blood or something because he’s ridiculously hot even though the fabric of the omegas shirt. Jean curls up small down his end of the bed and slowly shifts as close to Eren’s legs as he can without actually touching them or letting Eren notice what he’s doing. 

“Hey, Jean?”

“What?”

“Don’t you think it was weird how everyone was looking at me before?” 

Jean seriously just wants to fall into the oblivion of sleep, so his response is a half snarked, “Who fucking cares.”

Eren continues though as if Jean hadn’t said anything. “Like it was weird how they waited for me to speak, and how they ignored you. It was weird right?” 

“Well, it wasn’t fucking polite.”

“Mikasa smelt different too. She doesn’t smell like she usually does. Usually, she smells nice, like spring water and daisies except… she just smells like an Alpha now. Kinda like… I dunno. Like all the other Alphas. Like a threat.”

Jean thinks of the way they all smell, how Mikasa and Levi’s scents were suddenly dulled to him, and how that woman, Hanji, didn’t even have a scent at all. In fact, he could really only smell Eren. “You smell nicer than you did before,” he says, although he doesn’t know why. He just feels like talking and hearing someone respond. “You don’t smell of body odour anymore.”

“What do I smell like now?”

The omega thinks for a bit, inhaling softly. “I dunno.” He can feel the alpha deflate a little beside him, feels his mood start to drop, and Jean's own chest tightens like it's his feelings getting hurt. Instantly he tries to rectify it with, “You change. Sometimes you smell like sawdust, or like firewood. And other times it’s-“ Jean chokes. 

Oh… how had he not noticed before? 

Eren sits up and looks at him. “Like what?” 

“Like-“ Jean clears his throat. “Like rain. And leather.”

Like an old oilskin coat, forever hung in the boot room of the house just over the stack of firewood. Collecting cobwebs and dust, and causing his mother to stare for hours on end at it. He found out it belonged to his father on his fifth birthday, as they were just returning from the village town when he’d pointed to it and said, “Who left that there?”

His mother didn’t answer him, not that he really expected her to. Even at the young age of five he understood that his mother was a quiet woman with a deep contempt for the outside world. But later that night he’d snuck out of bed and climbed the stack of wood to pull the coat from the nail it was suspended from. 

It was a lot more effort to get the coat than he’d realised, because as he pulled he had misbalanced on the wood stack and toppled over onto the brick floor, scrapping his knee and injuring his ankle. 

The house remained silent though, his mother had not woken from the noise. 

Jean had the coat all to himself then, feeling over the seams and delving his little hands into the pockets the size of his head. He plucked away all the cobwebs and swept off all the dust. On the collar of the coat read a name, with the initials J.F.K embroidered in gold. Jean Fernand Kirstien. 

He knows that name. 

He’s not allowed to say it. But he knows it. 

But even though he’s not allowed to say it, not out loud and certainly not in front of his mother, he feels tears fall down his cheeks as he whimpers,  _“Daddy…”_  

He cries because he’s five and he’s lonely and he misses a man he’s never met but whose scent makes him feel things his mother’s never offered him. The sense of comfort, closeness and familiarity. He had felt so safe, the safest he’s ever been. And it was so warm. 

It was then that he’d cried, tucking the coat over his thin shoulders and curling up in it. He was so small and the coat so big that he could hide himself away in it entirely. The scent of it, sawdust and firewood and rain and leather… it was so calming. So calming.  

He fell asleep like that. Curled up in the corner of the boot room, his daddy's oilskin coat smelling like rain and leather protecting him from the chill night air. 

Come morning he’d had to hang the coat up, least his mother find out what he’d done. But every night on his birthday he would sneak into the boot room and tug it from its perch, the older he gets the easier it is to grab at it. He would sit surrounded by those comforting smells. Just sit. And be. 

It was his favourite time of the year. 

His mother never found out, or if she did, she never said anything. 

He’ll never forget the smell of leather and rain… which is why he’s stunned that he didn’t recognise the scent on Eren. 

Because Eren smells exactly like his father's coat, perhaps even better. Fresher, and warmer. A scent that’s not _dying._  

Jean feels a warm hand clasp over his hand, calloused yet so very gentle as it smooths a thumb over his knuckles. “Jean?” 

It’s Eren. Jean rips his hand away the same time Eren pulls his hand back, big eyes looking cautious. Jean wishes he wouldn’t look at him at all. “What?”

“You were- never mind,” Eren trails off. He lays back down on the bed and Jean does the same. For some reason Eren’s legs are now touching his back but… that's fine. Jean can deal with that. If Eren is fine with touching him then Jean will take the warmth he can get from it. “Do you, um, do you wanna know what you smell like?”

Jean actually does. He’s never been told what he smells like before. Marco, who smelt like pine needles and honey, had told Jean that he smells sweet like omegas often do. 

“The closest it comes to that i can think of is vanilla… but it’s not vanilla. Because that’s what Christa and all the other omegas smell like and you don’t smell like them, not exactly.”

Marco never brought up the topic of scent again, seeing how Jean had wilted from being told once again how different he was. 

“Oh, you smell like my mother's laundry room.”

It’s so absurd, and not at all what Jean’s expecting that he busts out laughing. “Your mothers what?”

Eren laughs a little too. “She used to put this really nice smelling stuff in with our clothes when she washed them, i dunno what it was though. I know she used the syrup from the Honeysuckle plant just outside our doorstep and mixed it with some leaves or something. Mint, I think.”

“Cool. I guess.” He’s not really sure what to say to that.

“It’s definitely an improvement on your last scent,” Eren continues jokingly.  

“What was my last scent?” he finds himself asking, 

“Pack scent. You smelt like the rest of 104.”

Jean wasn’t aware that the 104th legion had grown that close. He certainly never felt a sense of pack with them, not to all of them at least. Marco was different, he was Jean’s friend. He wonders if he’ll still smell the same to him. If Marco will still smell like cocoa beans or if he’ll smell like all the others. Jean hopes he doesn’t change. 

“What did I smell like before?” Eren asks. 

Jean thinks. He’d never really taken the time to consider Eren’s scent before this, just wrote him off as another annoying alpha with an extremely obnoxious hero complex. He’d kinda just tried to keep his head down so far, at least until Cadet training is over.  

“I don’t know. I didn’t pay attention.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

They’re woken by a metallic clanging. Eren startles awake and just like last time instinctively climbs over Jean. The omega below him huffs resignedly, “Eren, can you please fucking _not_.”

Levi, two guards Eren hasn’t seen before and Creepy are standing at the open door of the cell. 

“Hands up against the wall Jaeger, you know the drill,” The captain says detachedly. Eren doesn’t move at first, because his Omega is under him and if he moves he’s exposing him to these new people, one of whom he’s already established is a threat. He trusts Levi, but not with the safety of his omega. 

He’s already decided that there’s no way in _hell_ he’s moving when Jean pushes gently at his stomach, whispering, “Just do what they say.”

He reluctantly gets off the bed and stands up against the wall, managing to do so in a way that keeps Jean away from the threats. He see’s Jean rolling his eyes as he gets up from the bed and stretches, standing close to Eren. Eren relaxes. 

“Alright, shackle him,” Levi orders and Creepy approaches him with a pair of heavy set ion shackles in his hands. Eren tensely lowers his arms so the rest behind him, staring determinately at the wall in front of him. The shackles are cold around his wrists, and straining on his muscles with how much they weigh. He hopes that they’re not going to be on for long, that this whole fucking ‘trial’ isn’t going to last more than a couple hours at most. 

Creepy locks the shackles and steps away. Eren turns around and looks glaringly down at him. The bastard is smiling. 

“Step out of the cell Jaeger,” Levi orders again, and Eren does as he’s told, keenly aware of Creepy at his back, and how he’s looking at Jean. 

“Does the other one need restraints too?” One of the new guards asks. Eren notices that both of them have rose insignias on their jackets. Interesting. 

It’s Creepy who says, “No need. He can’t do anything with his Alpha restrained.” And Eren can just feel the heat of Jean’s anger at the comment. He tries to counteract it by giving out a soothing aura, but it appears to be too late. Jean’s jaw is locked like he’s determined that he’s going to pissed over this for the rest of the day. 

It makes Eren grin. 

As they walk down the hallway he notices all the cells are empty. Eerily, explaining why it was so quiet last night. 

When they reach the stairs Eren can already taste the fresh air, chest expanding with the delight in getting outside for the first time in days. God, he doesn’t think he’s ever been away from sunlight for this long, can’t understand why he didn’t go fucking mental with the loss. 

The air is still chilled and cold on his skin like it is in the cell, but the underlying rays of warmth that creep through is a new feeling, one Eren actually stops and relishes in for a moment. It’s bright too, glaringly so, due to the amount of white strewn around the place. 

It fucking snowed… it’s not even winter yet and it’s already snowing… 

“What the fuck?” he hears Jean mutter under his breath behind him. And equal looks of shock on his face when he turns round to glance at him. He’s still dressed in just a nightshirt, clearly feeling the low temperature in the way he begins to shiver and shake.

Eren can’t feel it exactly, can feel it on his skin and knows that it’s cold, but some internal flame is lit within him that almost barricades him from the cold, melts it off before it can settle in. 

He desperately wants to lean an arm of Jean’s shoulders, tuck him in close to his side to share some of that barrier with him, but his hands are shackled and Levi’s eyes are warning him to stay put, don’t do anything provoking. 

He grits his teeth. 

It’s mid-morning, Eren would guess. They pass the cafeteria and see a couple scouts coming out, notably, he sees Reiner and Bertolt, with that tiny little buzzcut kid that Eren can’t ever seem to place the traditional gender of. He doesn’t smell of anything except pack, so Eren figures he’s a beta, but truthfully he’s not sure. 

But the two Alphas look suspicious. 

They stop and stare at Eren as he walks past, Reiner turning to say something to the other Alpha, his eyes never leaving Erens direction. Bertolt stares at him too, shaking his head and Reiner throws his arms in the air, exasperated. Bertolt’s face screws up then and looks like he might be about to snarl something back, but Buzzcut distracts him with a tug on his sleeve and a point in Eren’s direction. 

“Eyes forward Titan,” one of the guards pushes at Eren’s back and he stumbles forward. Eren growls lowly, is ready to bark at the man but to his surprise, Jean beats him to it. 

“Fuck off would you? You already have him in chains, what the-“

“Shut it Omega,” The guard says, brushing Jean’s protests off his shoulder as if it were freshly fallen snowflakes. “Titan, keep your eyes forward.”

Eren, begrudgingly, does as he’s told. The feeling of Jean’s anger and his behalf is settling inside him and warming him further. 

_“Prick_ ,” Jean mumbles quietly. 

They don’t walk for long, coming to a somewhat large and open square in the legion settlement Eren’s rarely been to. He thinks he had to come here once for training, early in his training when they were learning how to assemble and disassemble 3DMG gear. There’s a large stage facing them as they walk in, with a row of chairs and a long table set up on it.

People crowd the sides of the square, cadets mostly. Eren tires to spy Mikasa or Armin, but can’t see either of them. 

The guard physically pushes his head down when he sees Eren looking. 

Jean seethes, “Stop fucking touching him!” He steps in between the guard and glares up at him, the arms folded tightly around himself to preserve heat take away a little of the menace he’s trying to put out, but the guard doesn’t seem phased either way. In fact he just completely ignores him. 

Suddenly, Eren want’s to know why the fuck everyone's ignoring his omega. Hanji did it, Mikasa did it a little too. And now this fucking guy is doing it. What the fuck?

Eren’s too distracted in his thoughts to realise they’ve almost walked to the base of the stage, perhaps 10 feet and is stopped by Levi’s hand on his chest. “On your knees Jaeger,” He says loudly, however, he’s not looking at Eren at all, instead is defiantly staring at the crowd gathering around them, head held high and shoulders relaxed to show how at ease his, how in control he is of this ‘monster’.

Eren knows what game he’s playing, and obediently falls to the dirt soaked snow, knees burning slightly as the ice melts into his pants. 

He bows his head without having to be told too, only to sneak another glance around the crowd, seeing if he can recognise a signature red scarf. 

He can’t, but he does notice Jean standing behind him, stepping from foot to foot impatiently because… the fucking idiot doesn’t have any fucking shoes on!

“You fucking dumb-“ he manages, only to be stopped halfway with a swot on the head from his captain. He grits his teeth and stares at Jean ’s bright red toes curling against the iced over cobblestone. He’s going to get fucking sick. And frostbite. Jesus, he should have gotten Mikasa to bring him some more clothing, some shoes at least. The guys in his fucking _pyjamas._

The gathering crowd, once full of murmurs and whispers suddenly falls quiet, and Eren’s attention is taken to the stage where a group of regal looking assholes are walking on the stage. He recognises only Commander Erwin and Commander Shadis. 

He keeps his gaze steady on Commander Erwin as to not appear intimidating to the other council members. He doesn’t want to scare them, it’s the opposite of what he wants. He has to prove he isn’t threatening. 

He takes a deep, steadying breath.

The group sit down, and suddenly all eyes are on him. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

It’s snowing. 

Jean is fucking _freezing._

He can’t feel his toes. 

When the hell has it ever snowed in fucking autumn! Rained sure, but cold enough to snow? _Fuck this_. Fuck all of this. Couldn’t he have just waited in the cell? Its warmer in there at least. 

If he weren’t so fucking cold he might have flushed red under all the attention from the gathered crowd.  All these people knowing without a doubt what his primary gender is. Before Jean could convince himself that nobody knew for sure what his gender was, that he could get away with being a beta since nobody had ever found out, or if they suspected, never had it confirmed… 

Some new, obviously… The knot headed alphas who could probably smell and omega from a mile away, and some of the other omegas who sought comfort in knowing there was someone similar to them nearby, 

But now everyone is going to know. And Jean wasn’t quite prepared for that revelation. 

Does he have to be out here with so many people staring at him? 

Well, not at him exactly. At Eren, they’re staring at Eren. 

Looks of interest, fear and disgust seem to be the range in this crowd. It’s difficult at first why they would be scared of him when the majority of them already know Eren. They alphas made a sort of name for himself already, a reputation for being a ‘reckless white knight’. Standing up for omegas and helping out Alphas alike.

Jean never got- or rather never wanted that treatment… 

However, the more he thinks it over the more it makes sense why everyone is so keen to drop all pretences related to Eren and decide that fearing him as a monster is a better path to take. Trust doesn’t protect you as much as fear does. 

Jean was terrified when he had to go down into the cells to meet the ‘monster’ he’d been hearing about, although the circumstances were different. 

Still, the annoyance he feels at the looks his Alpha is getting surprises him. Why does he care? He doesn’t have any loyalties to Eren other than the ones the bond enforces, and he’s pretty sure that it doesn’t cover dirty looks. That asshole guard who was whacking on him before is understandable because Eren could have gotten hurt or something… or just.. he doesn’t know. But it annoyed him, and before he could stop himself he was growling at the guard to cut it out.

It’s _weird._ He’s never been the type to do that before, never been the one to stand up for others. He’s too self-deprecating and selfish to even think of the way others feel. 

The council are droning on about something to do with Eren, the words ‘threat’ and ‘danger’ are passed around the speech more than enough times for Jean to drone it out. He knows what they’re talking about anyway, he doesn’t need to listen. 

Instead, he spends his time searching the faces of the crowd for a freckled one. With a stone in his stomach he concludes that Marco isn’t amongst the crowd, surely he would have made himself visible to Jean if he was. 

The weight of the stone lessens when he remembers that not all of the Scouting Legion is here, that this crowd only consists of just over half, but not all. He’s probably out training, or maybe he’s been sent on a mission. It’s unlikely that he would have so soon after the breach, but Jean wouldn’t know.

He does spy another freckled Alpha amongst the crowd, tall and regal looking, even with the sour expression on her face. Ymir’s one of the few that doesn’t have any of the three emotions plastered on her face like everyone else. She looks mad. At the council. 

Her thin lips are moving, and Jean can’t see who she’s talking to but he guesses it’s Christa, the omega that’s far too small to be seen amongst the crowd. 

If they’re here then Sasha and Connie must be here too. 

In fact, most of the 104th are here, whats left of them anyway. So where the hell is Marco?

Without warning the crowd begins to file out form the courtyard, swiftly and disciplined as they were trained to do as soldiers, and it’s mere minutes before Jean, Eren, their guards and the council are alone. 

“Bring the Omega forward!”  

The words are said distantly and barely register in Jean’s conscious, but the jarring way he’s manhandled to the front of the stage shocks him into his surroundings, and he’s suddenly aware that all eyes are on him. 

He just wants this whole thing over with. 

As he’s shoved past Eren he can see the Alpha shake roughly against his restraints, barely controlled growls and threats seeping through his clenched teeth. He feels mad, the anger rolling off him in waves and seeping right through Jean’s skin. It’s weird and uncomfortable, and not reassuring in the slightest…  

They make eye contact briefly, Eren’s forest green eyes locking with his, and if Jean wasn’t so suddenly fear stuck, he would have noticed the little electric shock he felt when staring into them. 

But he’s dragged past Eren too quickly for him to get any real information from his Alphas gaze, and he feels awfully alone as he stands in front of the council. His feet still stinging from the harsh movement of, and although he can’t feel it because his toes are numb, he thinks his pinky toe was scuffed and will probably start gushing red the second his blood unfreezes. 

“Omega Kirstein, Jean Perrie. 16 years old. Current Recruit of the 104th Cadet Corps,” says a short enough that Jean completely looks over him at first when he’s determining who’s shouting out his personal information. The man is dressed in an amusingly short overcoat with a rose insignia on the back, his plump belly sagging over the top of his pants.

For some reason, Jean hates the fact that this man has access to his personal records… it feels invasive. 

But fuck, what _hasn’t_ felt invasive over the last couple days.

“Bonded to Alpha Jaeger, Eren Wolfgang. 16 years old. Former Recruit of the 104th Cadet Corps.”

Former? The fuck?

The short fat man looks over at the council, “Sire, your lead,” he says before stepping back. 

A man, sitting in the middle of the row of council members, leans forward and places his hands on the table in front of him, forming a steeple with his fingers, the image of a man deep in thought. He regards Jean with dark, near depthless black eyes that are so entrancing Jean finds that he isn’t able to look away. 

Just keeps falling. 

All the background noise, the crowd whispering, the hand still gripped harshly around his forearm, the burning of his frozen feet… he can’t even feel the lump of Erens anger anymore, in fact he couldn’t even be aware of his Alpha if he tried, even with him being not 30 feet away from him. 

He’s so entranced, that when the man speaks, it’s as if he’s speaking right into his ear. 

“Bring him closer,” he says. “I want to get a better look.”

Jean is then dragged closer to the stage, with somewhat less resistance than he would have thought. He wishes he’d listened into Eren’s trial better… should have been more attentive to what was going on around him so he could prepare himself for this. 

But he didn’t think he would be put on the stand like this. He’s not the monster in question. He didn’t do anything. 

“So,” the man says once Jean is kneeling in front of him. “You’re the little trainee who snuck into the cell and fraternised with the prisoner?” 

He grabs the omegas chin in his gloved hands and tilts it up, turning it this way an that. Jean feels like a deer caught in the headlights. 

The man then proceeds to walk around him, inspecting him. Jean’s skin, already crawling with anxiety, feels like it’s being cut off and displayed flat on the stages frozen floorboards like a wolfskin. His chest is heaving noticeably, with the way his hands are forced awkwardly behind his back.

“I wonder how you managed to get in, hm?” The man says behind him, causing Jean to flinch. 

Someone growls off to the side. Eren probably. Jean doesn’t care, he just want’s this to be over. 

“The fact that you managed to get into the prison chamber, slip into a cell and perform the act of bonding all without alerting security is either a testament to our methods in stealth or our failure in teaching vigilance… Perhaps it is both,” the man continues to walk around Jean before stopping in front of him, brown leather boots stopping right in Jean’s line of sight, and suddenly Jean’s angry that he’s had to spend so much time looking down at peoples shoes… He glares at them. 

“Well, I suppose it doesn’t matter now, does it? You’ve bonded successfully, despite the odds, and now we have to think about moving forward. There is a great deal of suspect and trepidation on keeping Mr Jaeger alive and within the walls, however, I’m led to believe that this bond you have formed will give us a better grasp of control over him.”

He leans in close suddenly, grips Jean’s hair and forces him to look up. “It was a quite a risk you took, wasn’t it? But I’m sure you know that.” He smiles like he knows exactly the reason why Jean and Eren are bonded. Like he’s been aware of their plan this entire time. Because his smile is sadistic, stretched wide across his pale face. “Unnecessary, however.”

Jean’s stomach drops. Acid filling the back of his throat. 

“W-What?”

The man almost caresses the back of his head, thumb rubbing circular motions just behind his ear. “Unnecessary. You’re risk."

_'You'_ goes unsaid. 

_Unnecessary…_

“Do you really think we would have given up an opportunity such as this?” He moves Jean’s heard so he’s facing towards Eren. The alpha is still on his knees but he looks wild, wrathful, unrestrained even with his hands behind his back. He’s vibrating almost, with low growls and tension. “He’s raw, yes, but powerful. So much potential that’s only just been unearthed-“ he talks eagerly, heatedly -“ and that’s just the surface.” 

He looks back at Jean, pensively.  “Pity you’re barren. I do wish he’d mated with a female omega, however.  But I guess we will have to work with what we have, won’t we?”

He taps Jean roughly on the face, his interest in Jean clearly abandoned as he makes his way back to his seat. Jean barely registers that he’s being dragged back over to Eren.

_Unnecessary._

That’s what he said. Unnecessary. That’s what Jean is. He had to be implying that. He had to have been talking about Jean. 

They were going to keep Eren anyway, because he’s powerful, useful, valuable, and Jean isn’t. He never was. He doesn’t even need to be here… they could have done this without him, because no matter what, Eren was going to survive without him. 

He’s _unnecessary._

The skin on his knee splits open at his harsh fall against the ground, red flooding sluggishly into the grey snow. Eren leans closer to him, his body warmth barely registering. “What were you talking-,” he begins, but the council interrupts him.

“I’m glad to say we have come to a decision as a council. Mr Jaeger will remain with the Scouting Legion, remaining here until there is notice that he is a threat to society, in which case he will be cast out from the inner walls, along with his Omega. However, i do hope that you will work willing with us, Mr Jaeger, so that you may become an asset to our king, instead of a burden. As an unnecessary burden is the last thing mankind requires.” 

Jean squeezes his eyes closed. 

_Pity you’re barren._

He thought he was making a sacrifice. This was all okay because they needed him. There wasn’t anyone else who could take his place. Levi, Eren, humanity had _needed_ him… but it was all a lie. 

He can’t fucking think on that right now. Can’t think, can’t-

“On behalf of the crown, I, Alpha Serge, Ronan Hrisovalantis hereby declare Alpha Jaeger, Eren Wolfgang pardoned from death, with the intent he rises to his potential to aid humanity and fight with us, not against. His title as a recruit is restored, however, certain restrictions will apply as the level of threat he avers is yet to be determined in full. Those will be relayed through a liaison at a later date, but know that a breach in those rules will result in a reevaluation of your stability and possible change of contract.”

Serge smiles. “For now, you may enjoy your time with you newly bonded mate. I would assume that a ceremony is in order, to make the bond publicly official.”

Annoyance flickers through Jean’s chest. What kind of ceremony does this man expect them to have? Why the fuck is he making a spectacle out of their bond now? He has Eren, he was what he wants, so why is he now torturing Jean?

Eren glances at him, likely feeling the emotion himself too, second hand from Jean. He ever so slightly leans closer, close enough for Jean to hear him breathing through his nose over the sound of his own blood boiling.

What the fuck angle is this Alpha playing at? There’s not even an affiliation patch on him anywhere. No unicorn, or rose or wings that Jean can link this man with. He’s apparently a member of the council, however, unlike the other council members on stage who are adorned in the Kings Guard winter uniforms, this man is dressed all in black with a grey fur-lined coat. 

The annoyance dies down in Jean rather quickly as the man walks off stage and out of sight, dismissing his small gathered audience with a formal salute and a, “Your crown and kingdom salutes you,” as per the customary formality of ending a public speech. The council follow him off, apart from Erwin, who shakes Serges hand as he exits. 

Then it’s over. 

Eren’s chains fall from his hands with a harsh clank as they’re unlocked. The guards previously breathing down their necks leave without much fuss, other than one who gives Eren the stink eye as he goes. Eren doesn’t seem to notice though, as the Alphas overheated hands are grasping at Jean’s forearms, shaking him roughly. “You okay? What did they say to you up there?”

That Jean’s an idiot. “Nothing.”

Eren’s grasp tightens. “What do you me-“

“Don’t touch me,” he snaps, jerking himself out of Erens grip and crossing his arms tightly across his chest, shoulders high and trembling. 

He wants to go to bed. He’s tired. He’s cold. The trial is over and he knows he should feel excited, should be grinning like Eren because their lives were just spared… but it doesn’t even matter. Jean didn’t need to be here, never even needed to get involved really. They never planned to execute Eren.. they never planned on letting him die because he’s able to contribute something worthy and beneficial to society. 

_Unnecessary Burden…_ He feels sick. 

“We should get you somewhere warmer,” Eren’s telling him, looking down at his feet. “And i want a shower.”

Levi places a hand on Eren’s shoulder before he leaves, “Remember, you’re on parole. Get clean, but stay in your room until I notify you of your new schedules and parole limits. Got that recruits?”

Jean relaxes slightly at the familiarity of being called a recruit and getting told what to do in a regimented style. There’s a difference between being ordered around as an omega, and being ordered around as an army soldier. 

“Your items have already been moved to the mated barracks. We’ll deal with the official bonding ceremony later tonight, put all this bullshit on a public record just in case something happens. Right now I need to talk to Erwin and Hanji.”

And, as if this entire thing was simply a mission they’d been given and had just completed, Levi salutes them. “Dismissed.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Their new room is small.

Not that Jean was expecting anything extravagant, not by the slightest. In fact, he’s never actually been in this building before, or really near it, unless it was to go to the Legions small post office to collect his, and mostly Marco’s, letters and packages. 

Marco used to get them all the time from his parents. His mother, who coincidently was also a seamstress in her village just like Jeans, was constantly sending new clothes to him. Jean always got Marco’s hand-me-downs when they stopped fitting him since Marco insisted that his mother would want them to go to someone in Marco’s pack. 

If Jean still refused Marco would offer them to Connie Springer, the kid who literally looks like he’s 9 years old in his oversized, ragged clothes and never eaten a meal in his life. Jean’s positive Springer is a kid, there’s no _fucking way_ he’s 15… maybe 13 at the most, but not 15 like he claims. There's honestly just no way, and Jean seriously questions the authenticity of the credentials Connie throws in everyone's face as soon as they challenge him. 

The look the kid gave Marco when he first offered almost broke Jeans usually iced over heart, because the kid had almost fucking cried when he immediately ripped off his rags and put on the slightly worn but still in good condition thermal Marco handed to him. 

He was positively _swimming_ in it, but replied with a high-pitched, lisp heavy voice, “Th-Thanks.”

Marco had petted his shaved head and smiled at him, “You’re welcome. Why don’t you stop by my bunk tonight and we can go through my civvies and see if there’s anything else you might want.”

“Really? A-Are you sure?”

“Of course. You’re in 104th, aren’t you? We have to look out for each other.”

The kid had fucking _beamed_ , then proceeded to follow the freckled Alpha around for the rest of the day with that big dumb smile on his face. Marco hadn’t seemed to mind, elbowing Jean in the ribs whenever he spotted the kid looking at them from around a corner. Jean never managed to spot him though, the kid is too fast and always disappears before Jean even turns around, but Marco apparently had eyes in the back of his head. 

Later that night the kid had timidly tiptoed over to Marco and Jean's bunk beds, leaving with an armful of the warmest, thickest items of clothing both of them owned. Items that will be far too large on him for probably a number of years, but still at least he’d be warm. 

Lately, he's taken to following around the two older looking alphas of the group, Reiner and Bertolt he thinks their names are. It's kinda cute actually, watching Connie do exactly the same thing he did to him and Marco. The two ignored the kid for the most part, but it hasn't stopped him in his pursuit so far. 

Not if the way he was standing with the two at the cafeteria earlier today is any indication. 

Jean thinks about how he should probably get the kid some more clothes, a jacket maybe. It’s winter now, and the Cadet Winter ensemble is good for nothing but keeping you dry instead of warm. It’s best worn with thermals and layers of socks. 

He’ll have to find Marco first, get him to give the kid a jacket. Jean doesn’t want to do it himself directly, cause he likes Connie, but he’s not sure how to give the kid clothes without offending him. Cause while Connie has nothing, he’s stupidly defensive of the fact he has nothing. It’s counterproductive, and Jean knows Marco’s been trying to fix that over the past couple weeks. 

He really needs to find Marco. But first, he has to deal with Eren, who’s looking at the not-quite-a-double-but-larger-than-a-single bed with a nervous expression. “Um… I’ll take the left side?”

Jean, just to get any type of leverage in this situation folds his arms, saying shrilly, “No, _I’ll_ take the left.”

Eren rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He stretches and starts digging through one of the two boxes sitting by the door, the one labelled Eren, pulling out a towel and slinging it over his shoulders. “Imma hit the showers. Maybe grab some food. I’m fucking starving.”

The omega shrugs, “Okay.”

Eren hesitates before he leaves, looking Jean up and down, contemplatively. “You wanna come? I’m gonna go to our old barracks after and see the pack. Miks and Armin will probably be wondering where I am… um, Marco will probably be there as well, I’m guessing.”

“He’s not.” The conversation spurs Jean into life, as he moves hastily dig through his box of clothes and pulls on his uniform, taking little comfort in finally wearing warmer, fresher clothes. He has to go, has to leave. He can’t stay here any longer and just… _do nothing._ Marco wasn’t at the trial, and nobody has seen him. He’s probably still out in the city, probably wondering why Jean hasn’t bothered looking for him either. 

Just… he needs some fresh fucking air. Needs out of the training grounds just for a little while, please. Get some distance between all the fucked up proceedings of the last couple of days. 

Needs time to think about the trial, about what he’s going to do now. Because in theory, there’s nothing for him to do. He’s not needed anywhere, by anyone. _Unnecessary._  

Nobody fucking needs him, not even Eren. 

_Pity you’re barren._

Jean determinately shakes his head. He needs to stop fucking thinking on it. Not till later. He needs to find Marco now. 

Eren turns to him alarmed when he sees him throw his cape over his shoulders, instead of his towel. “The fuck you going?”

“Out.”

The alpha blinks, dumbstruck. “Out? You know we’re not allowed-“

“Yes. I’m fucking aware of our restrictions.”

Eren can’t seem to wipe the dumbfounded look off his face. “Are you fucking running away right now?”

God, Jean wishes. A lump forms in his throat, and he stops what he’s doing, clutching what he has in his hands to his chest. He looks down at it, see’s the silk of his mothers that he stole from her room before he left. It feels cold and lifeless in his hands, no longer giving the soothing feeling of comfort it used to. “No… I’ll come back.”

He has to. There’s nowhere else for him to go. 

“Why are you leaving then.”

His eyes start to itch suddenly. “To find Marco,” he says, voice wobbly even through his efforts to sound confident, determined. Truth is he’s scared. Has been since this whole mess started, should probably be used to it by now. 

Eren’s steps towards him, brings his hands up to hover around Jean, like he wants to put them on his waist but isn’t sure if touching would incite peace or turmoil.

“I’ll come with you.”

“No.”

“Jean,“ He says, deciding that grabbing onto Jean's waist is a risk he’s willing to take, and Jean pushes at his chest. _“Jean!”_

“I said no.”

Eren’s grip tightens, almost painfully so. “Come on, think about it. You’re not gonna be safe out there, not without me. People might recognise you! Just.. wait until my-our restriction is lifted so I can come too. We can look for Marco in just a few days, maybe even tomorrow. Please, don’t be stupid.”

Jean glares at him, still struggling. But Eren’s too strong, too big for him to really have any real advantage. “Fuck off! Let me go! I don’t want you anywhere fucking near me right now.”

“We’re in this together, don’t be a fucking dick.”

“No! Eren, we are not in this _together,_ ” He struggles harder, throwing his meagre weight around enough that it throws Eren’s balance off. “We’re in this for _you…_ ”

Eren’s fists clench down by his sides. His face dark even with the winter sun barely shining in through the window, making the room cold and grey. Both their chests are heaving, although it’s less from their physical fight and more from the emotions twisting inside them. 

Anger from both sides, travelling between them through the air like creeping flames. Jean focuses on it, latches onto it desperately to fuel the fire of his own anger, least it be doused in the dripping wet feelings of guilt and hurt and betrayal he knows is lurking just beneath his surface, ready to be exposed if his alpha tries to push him any further. 

“You’re not leaving,” Eren states in a deep, husky voice that makes Jean’s hairs stand on end. Makes him want to hang his head, bend to his knees and submit. The feeling is almost stronger than his wild desperation to leave. But he manages to strangle it down, breathing a stuttering breath. 

“Are you going to make me stay?”

He can see it in Eren’s eyes, the agony inducing dilemma of resorting to using his control over Jean he has as an Alpha, and order him to stay. He could if he wanted to. Could pump the room full of pheromones, overwhelm Jean and send him into a submissive headspace to keep him pliant. 

Jean shivers at the thought. 

“Please Eren, please… I need to go. I have to find him. Please, I need-“

Eren stands and Jean instinctively flinches backwards. His hip hits the bedside table, shaking the candle lamp there. It clanks loudly in the room. Both of them freeze. 

It’s silent.  

The creeping flames of anger have died, leaving Jean feeling slightly cold with defeat, hands shaking enough that he fists them in his pants. He still doesn’t move even as Eren walks slowly over to him and fixes the fallen bedside lamp, his titan heat near burning on the omegas skin. Eren then bends down, face turned sideways into the angle of Jean’s neck and shoulder and inhales. Whatever he smells makes him whine, and he pulls back to rest his forehead against the top of Jean’s head. 

“It’s okay. I-I’m sorry. Please don’t be scared.”

Jean swallows. Glares down at his feet. His toes are still blue, burning slightly as feeling returns. “I’m not.”

He backs away then, broad shoulders still stiff. “Don’t leave this room.”

Eren closes the door behind him as he goes, not looking back at the tense omega left behind. 

Jean’s still for all of 30 seconds before he walks over to the window and looks out of it, watching the tall figure of the titan shifter make his way out of sight. 

“Fuck you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, here's another chapter. 
> 
> Hope this makes sense!
> 
> Tell me what you think of me making Connie, Reiner and Bertolt like, a thing. I have been reading a lot of Connie/Reiner and I'm fucking obsessed... 
> 
> Like it's weird cause I low key always wrote Connie off as a character but god damn am I falling in love with him... He's so little!


	3. Will Tear Us Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof, who thought I was dead? 
> 
> Don't worry, I did too. 
> 
> Thanks for the positive comments guys, honestly didn't think anyone would actually care about reading this enough to want me to continue. It's fucking awesome. Makes my literal life quality increase. 
> 
> I know this chapter is totally all over the place, and I'm gonna edit tf out of it tomorrow, but it's currently 3:44 am here and I have work in four hours but I neeeeeeeeeded to get this fucken chapter poster and get this story moving. 
> 
> It's turning out way longer than I had anticipated. 
> 
> Sorry, this chapter doesn't explain much and leaves a lot of questions unanswered, but ya'll will figure it out in the next chapters. 
> 
> Anway, i hope you enjoy this shit.

He fucked up. 

He knows he fucked up. 

He can _feel it_. 

Eren’s chest _aches_ with it. A deep throbbing inside of him that makes his already frayed nerves tingle and his hands become restless, jittery, like they want to reach out and just… just… he doesn’t know. 

Lie. He _does_ know what he wants to do, but he doubts Jean is going to let him anywhere near him. Not after Eren went total asshole alpha on him. 

He shouldn’t have yelled at him, he knows that. He shouldn’t have forced himself onto Jean in that way. Shouldn’t have made the omega feel like that, not when he knows Jean is… sensitive. Like all omegas are but, Jeans different. 

He’s strong- No, he’s _independent_. Or he tries to be. And this, Eren acting like this, is just going to make him hate the alpha more than he already does. He’s honestly not helping himself whatsoever. If he wants this bond to be anyway pleasant then he’s got to be nice to the person on the other end of it. No matter the circumstances in which the bond formulated, or in other words, no matter if it was forced. 

Just… the look on Jean’s face. The betrayal, but also the blatant submission, the way the omega lowered his head, bared his neck ever so slightly that Eren could just catch a glimpse of the still bloody bite mark he’d left there. And the stench of fear-

God, he feels sick. Or… perhaps is that Jean feeling sick? And Eren’s just feeling it second hand? 

Fucking hell.

He doesn’t know. Doesn’t fucking know anything anymore. 

Their bond is weird… not like how his mother and father described it at all. Perhaps it’s just because they were forced into it, but he never remembers his mother talking about literally feeling his fathers feelings, nor visa-versa. It’s strange. Another weird thing to add to the steadily growing pile of weird things in Eren’s life. 

He- needs to shower. Needs to get clean, eat some food. See Mikasa and Armin and then… then he’ll think this stuff over.  Make-up with Jean, which hopefully is easier done than said but Eren feels strongly it’s not. 

And then sleep. 

That bed looked fucking comfortable.

 If there’s one good thing being bonded has done for them, its upgraded them to their own room. Although he’s not keen on being separated from his pack like this, and even though he’ll have to share it with Jean the human stick insect, it’s still nice to have a bigger bed and his own space. 

The showers are empty when he enters and he releases the breath he didn’t know he was holding when the semi hot water hits the back of his neck. Scrubbing himself down, he can’t quite put his finger on the sense of wrongness he suddenly has, until he hits his check on the showered and realises he’s suddenly too big for the shower. 

His growth spurt, the one that stretched and shredded all his clothing, that made his toes poke out the mouth of his shoes like buck teeth, making him look like some ridiculous overgrown adult in child’s clothing… which yeah, he supposes he is. 

It’s going to take some getting used to, he thinks. Being this tall. This big. It’s weird. 

 _Gotta get used to a lot more than that_ , his mind helpfully reminds him. 

By the time he decides to leave the showers, the hooting and hollering of recruits can just be heard, and Eren guesses it’s a good time to leave unless he want’s to be crammed in with them. Which could end badly, since he’s still not sure on what everyones opinion of him is yet in the training barracks. Weather people are welcoming, wary or hostile. 

Not that he thinks anyone could take him on and win in his current state. More power than he’s ever felt in his life is flowing just under his skin, itching to be released. A strength that feels almost too brutal for a world full of humans, and while Eren doesn’t necessarily consider himself not-human per say, he absolutely feels different from them. Feels somewhat superior than them, in the sense that he has a duty to keep them safe. 

Perhaps he shouldn’t think like that. Shouldn’t distance himself like that. But he thinks on Mikasa and Armin. Of Ymir and Christa and others from the 104th that he’s come to consider ‘pack’. 

Or not quite pack yet… almost pack. 

He doesn’t know all of them by name, like the small kid with big eyes and the shaved head. Or the girl who ate that potato on their first day of training, Brouse. Sarah? Sara? _Sasha…_ thats her name. 

But they all smell like Pack, which is all that matters. They were still only in their early stages of forming a pack, but already they’d created a _pack scent_ , a collective of smells from each of them that forms a single identifying scent that makes them all feel familiar. 

It’s why he was able to bond with Jean, even though he didn’t know the kid all that well beforehand. He had the pack scent, a part of Eren’s scent, no matter how small, that allowed Eren to feel connected enough to make a bond with Jean without it seeming ‘too forced’… 

He shivers. 

Hates thinking about it. 

Focuses instead on drying his hair and body with the single this-is-stupidly-fucking-small towel every recruit is issued. He’s a little annoyed that he’s having to put on his same old shredded pieces of clothing, but he’s trying to avoid wrecking anymore of his clothes, even though they’re cleaner. Hopefully he can be supplied with a bigger uniform, but he’s going to have to buy all new civilian clothing, least he wants to wear his uniform everywhere he goes. 

Outside it’s stopped snowing, but the wind burns like frozen fire against his still damp scalp. The cold doesn’t affect him as much as it used to, probably because he’s now three times the size he was. 

He’s looking up at the sky again, trying to gauge the weather forecast for the rest of the day, which by the look of the steadily darkening clouds on the horizon it does not appear to be clearing anytime soon, and so he doesn’t notice someone walking towards him until he literally whacks right into them. 

Evidently, the other person must not have been focused either, because Eren’s a lot to miss. 

“Shit, sorry,” Eren splutters, on reflex reaching out a hand to grab at the persons elbow to steady them. He near jolts at the feel of bone under his hand. It’s like grabbing onto a piece of wire for all that the arm is thin and bird-like. 

“S’okay,” the person mumbles, and Eren looks down, surprised to see buzzcut kid. A brown paper bag clutched tightly in a shaking fist to his thin chest. He’s dressed in his civilian clothing, a large shirt that appears on him as more of a tunic, a pair of thin leggings, and a coat clearly meant for someone with twice the body mass buzzcut can provide. “Guess neither of us were watching where we were going.”

Eren releases his arm gently. “Guess not.” 

Buzzcut suddenly throws a leather gloved hand out. “I’m Connie. By the way. I-In case you didn’t know. I still don’t know everyones names here.”

Well, that makes Eren feel less like a piece of shit. “I’m Eren.” 

Kid laughs. “Yeah, i know. Everyone knows who you are by now.”

“Right. Of course they do.”

 _Of course they do._ Every man, woman and child will know. Every alpha, beta and omega will fucking know who he is and _what_ he is. It’s a terrifying thought. 

Buzz- _Connie_ didn’t appear phased at all by him though, as he smiles up at him. “You’re taller than before.” 

The way he says it, a blunt statement, makes Eren think of the school-age children that sometimes peer in through the gates of the barracks, trying to sneak a peak at the soldiers training inside. Eyes wide and tiny mouths open when the see someone ride in on horseback, 3dmg gear strapped tightly to the soldiers legs. 

Asking blatantly if they’ve killed any titans with that sword. He was one of them once, and now he’s a solider. 

Makes him question how old the kid is. 

“Um, yeah.”

“Cool,” the Kid says. “Reiner said i’m probably gonna grow soon too. I hope i’m as tall as you one day. You’re tall as fuck.” For some reason, the curse word makes Eren cringe slightly. It doesn’t feel right hearing it from this kids mouth. “You’re probably as tall as Bertolt and Reiner. Well, Reiner, anyway. No ones as tall as Bertolt. He’s massive. But Reiner’s shoulders are wider and-“

The kids cheeks blush red and he falls silent.

It’s so much like talking to one of his friends as a child about their childhood crushes and who-likes-who that Eren laughs a little, but he’s not sure how to progress the conversation from there, so he nods to the bag the kids holding onto. “What’s that?”

Connie falters, likes he’s been caught committing a small crime The bag crinkles audibly as he scrunches it tighter to his thin chest. “U-Um, nothing. It’s just… nothing.”

It’s clearly not. Not by the way the kids eyes are open impossibly wide, and his breathing turns a little shallow. And for all that Eren can’t get a primary scent from him, the smell of fear sours the air between them. The alpha grimaces slightly, and instinctively moves closer. Has to move closer, in case somethings wrong. 

Because something smells wrong. Smells acidic. 

“You sure?”

Somethings wrong with the kid suddenly, he can smell it. He’s… he’s pack. And _god, the smell._ The smell is there. There’s not a lot Eren can decipher from the kids scent, but he can tell that he’s scared and he’s pack and thats _all that matters._

Pack is nervous.

Pack is frightened.  

Pack is in trouble.

Protect pack. 

Protect-

Connie’s fear scent suddenly spikes, he steps back and looks down at the ground. Eren pauses, hasn’t even realised he’d moved forward, crowding the kid against the wall like some… some… knothead. 

Fuck. There goes Eren’s alpha subconscious again, terrorising children and just putting even more distance between himself and the people he cares about. 

Immediately he backs away, stumbling slightly in his rush. Connie stares at him wearily, but his shoulders dip down from his ears and his head tilts upwards. 

There’s a very awkward silence that Eren definitely deserves. “Um,” he forces himself to speak, “Sorry.” 

What is wrong with him? He was never this aggressive of an alpha before? Even with Mikasa and Armin, if anyone tried to hurt them he’d be pissed, sure, but he’s let them handle it until they actually asked him for help. This kid just had to smell scared and Eren completely lost it. 

Once again, he tells himself that he needs to get a fucking _grip_ and stop acting like the monster everyone already thinks he is. 

Connie regards him still with that edged wariness, but the air becomes more breathable. The scent of fear dispersed. “S’okay.” 

“I-I didn’t mean to scare you. Whatever’s in that bag is your business.” He notices the kid is wearing black leather gloves, as he shoves the bag into the pocket of his oversized jacket. He wonders why the kids not in uniform. He was this morning when he saw him before the trial. He thinks so anyway. Everything about this morning is like looking at a sign in a fog and trying to make out what it’s saying.  “Are you going somewhere?”

The kid begins to nod yes before Eren’s even finished the question, then stops himself, “No, i was— i-i just came back from town.” He looks uncomfortable then, mouth stuttering open and closed. “Um, i saw-“

They’re interrupted by a loud shout, and suddenly two more familiar scents join them, however these scents are different from the kids. They’re clearly Alphas. Strong Alphas. He whips his head to his right and see’s two figures storming towards him, Bertolt Hoover and Reiner Braun, rolling over hills like dark clouds ready to release a torrential downpour of thunder and lightning. 

Eren had never had a problem with the two of them before. In fact, all his interactions with them, albeit few that there are, have been rather pleasant. Friendly even. Alpha to Alpha. They were the two that Eren had hoped stuck around to become a proper part of the pack. They were always comradely to him, and have smelt as such. 

Their scents are probably mingled together more with him than Jeans was before he’d bonded with the omega. 

They still smell the same underneath all the surface rage they’re protruding at this moment. It’s somewhat comforting to know that their scents are still voluntarily mingled… they haven’t given up on Eren yet.  

Even so, their faces are now dark, and the air between them is electric with the prospect of a challenge. A fight for dominance. Because now, instinctively, Eren’s pushing his chest out and widening his stance as if he’d actually take on two of the biggest alphas in the training corps. As if he could take them on a win. 

But he might be able to now that he’s doubled in size. Connie said he’s the same height as Reiner now, and as the two come to a tense stop a few feet away from him, Eren suddenly realises that he’s actually taller than the blonde Alpha. Only by an inch or so but… his chest swells a little at the petty sense of pride and accomplishment that washes over him. It’s a stupid thing to feel good about, however it’s something he can’t help but feel. 

Another knothead thought. 

The three Alphas stare each other down, none of them asserting dominance or pushing to fight, but they’re not backing down either, even though Eren knows that if anyone should back down it’s him. He can’t risk getting into a fight with a fellow soldier right after he’s been released. 

They stare for what seems like forever, until Reiner breaks his composure and flicks his eyes to Connie, who’s still backed up against the wall, eyes jerking back and forth between the two opposing forces in front of him. 

“Connie,” Bertolt grits out between clenched teeth. “Behind me, now.”

He’s using an alpha voice, tone commanding and assertive. Which means Connie must be an Omega for him to think using that voice is going to work but- no, Connie doesn’t move. Doesn’t even blink at the tone of voice. Just looks at the tall Alpha imploringly and says, “No, it’s okay, he’s not-“

“ _Connie_ ,” Reiner almost shouts. Takes a step forward so he’s closer to the Connie. 

And Eren, because he’s not that stupid, can connect the dots. The way they’re looking at Eren, or more specifically the way they’re looking at Connie. They’re fucking worried. Concerned that Eren was a threat to their… what is Connie to them? A potential mate? 

Bertolt grabs Connie’s shoulder and jerks him behind him. 

Eren immediately backs away, not that he was ever planning on challenging the Alphas, but he’d rather not give the _impression_ that he was. That would make sense on why the kid smelt so familiar before, not just because he’s part of the 104th, but because he’s got Bertolt and Reiner’s scent on him. 

And this situation must look sketchy as hell to the both of them. An Alpha talking to a Beta isn’t weird, it’s the fact that Eren can turn into a mindless monster at any second, which makes him dangerous, and Connie is on his way to becoming a potential mate to the two Alphas watching their interaction. 

So yeah, he can understand why they’d be defensive of him. He raises his hands in surrender, “I swear i wasn’t doing anything.”

Reiner and Bertolt exchange glances, before shrugging. “Yeah, we figured that. It’s just…” Reiner trails off awkwardly, but Eren can read the unsaid _we don’t know what you are. We don’t trust you._

That’s fair. 

“I know. I don’t trust me either right now.” Neither does Jean. Hopefully he’d be inclined to forgive him after an apology. Unlikely though. Jean seems like he was born with a stick up his ass. The two Alphas both give him wary looks and move a little further away. Eren quickly corrects, “I mean, i don’t trust me cause i think everyone hates me. Not like, not like i don’t trust me cause i’m gonna explode into a titan or something. You know.”

Eren want’s to punch himself in the face. 

Bertolt hums low in the back of his throat, and says cryptically, “So it’s true then.”  

Connie pokes his head around Bertolt’s hip, and says, “Can you two stop being assholes? Eren wasn’t trying to hurt me. He’s not as dangerous as everyone thinks he is. I saw him when he turned into… whatever he turns into. He helped close the wall off. A bad guy wouldn’t do that.”

“No,” Eren agrees, smiling, “A bad guy _wouldn’t_ do that.  And the Military wouldn’t let me just wander around freely if i was dangerous, would they?”

He feels like that’s along the lines of something Armin would say if he was in this situation. 

Reiner laughs, “No offence, but i’m not gonna take the word of some asshole Military _Nobleman_ who’s probably been licking the Kings Royal asshole for his entire career to tell me whats dangerous and what isn’t.”

Eren nods in agreement, “Well, you got me there. Honestly, i don’t think any of the men onstage at the trial had even been this far from the kingdom before.” 

“Apart from the Commander,” Bertolt says, an unnecessary correction, but Eren has the feeling that the solider is a man of facts and correct statements. Like Armin. 

“Apart from the Commander,” Eren repeats, then looks the tall Alpha right in the eye. Making sure he’s standing tall and confident.  “But he let me go free too.” 

He get’s the barely noticeable sense that although he’s the more quieter, stoic one of the two, Bertolt is definitely the superior Alpha. It’s almost a trick, the way the move about each other to give the impression that Reiner calls the shots. Eren wonders why they do that. Why they feel the need to hide that small piece of information away from everyone. He wonders if anyone else has noticed. 

The way even though Reiner’s standing at the front, he’s backed into Bertolt like the mans a safeguard. A fall back for if this conversation turns physical. 

Eren’s only now just noticed, and that’s because… well because he’s suddenly looking at the world in a different light. Not quite enhanced, but perhaps modified version of his senses. He’s noticing a lot more things than he used to… perhaps it’s a titan thing. 

Perhaps it’s a bond thing. 

“Not sure if i should take his word for it either,” Bertolt says. Voice impassive, giving nothing of this thoughts away. Reiner at least smells aggressive, albeit conflicted. Bertolt’s scent is unperturbed. 

Eren swallows. It starts to snow again. “Then take _my_ word for it.”

A cold, icy sense of desperation surges through him. For acceptance that he’s not a threat. For approval that he’s still one of the pack. That he can be useful in their protection. Ultimately it’s not unto just these three to decide on wether Eren should be outcasted or included, however it certainly wouldn’t hurt Eren’s credibility to have them on his side, un-fearing of him. Perhaps even loyal. 

If Eren has a pack behind him, a real one instead of the bread scent of the 104th, then maybe this bond thing with Jean might be easier. Maybe even this titan thing will be easier, if he can find a way to harness the power for the good of the pack. 

So he tries his hardest to give of a safe, protective smelling scent. On with the promise of _i’ll do my best to keep you safe_. And comes ever so slightly closer just to mix their scents a little more, to solidify the feeling of Pack. 

He keeps his eyes locked on them the entire time. Watches their jaws slowly unclench and their shoulders relax. Watches them finally drop their defensive stances. “Alright,” Bertolt finally says. 

Reiner and Connie smile at him, and Eren matches them with a wide, toothy grin. 

He realises that it’s the first time since he’s been thrown in the dungeon that he’s actually felt something like hope. 

Finally, something’s going his way.

Reiner frowns again, “Are those you’re clothes from before?” He’s looking at Eren’s attire, the ripped sleeves of his shirt and pants that look like shorts on him. Eren flushes red with embarrassment. He scratches the back of his neck. 

“Yeah. Kinda had a growth spurt over the last couple days.”

“No kidding,” Reiner laughs, looking at him from top to bottom . Snows started to collect in their hair, melting right off of Eren’s skin from his body heat.  

Connie begins to shiver, hunching his shoulders and blowing into his gloved hands. The bag he was clutching before has disappeared. “You aren’t cold are you?” He asks, gesturing to the titan shifter. “Dressed like that?”

“Not really. One of the benefits of the titan thing i guess. Don’t need a jacket.”

“Lucky,” Connie mumbles. “These winter uniforms they give us are useless. These guys don’t even notice it though.” He elbows Reiner. 

Reiner looks down at him, “If you’re cold tell us. We’ll give you some of our stuff.“

“I don’t fit any of your stuff. See?” He holds up the sleeves of his jacket, letting the ends flop over his hands and down towards the slushy snow off the ground. 

The blonde shrugs dismissively. “Least you smell like us… uhh…” His cheeks go red, and he coughs. “We’ll get you something that’s your size.”

Connie shakes his head though, looking a little distraught at the thought, “No it’s fine! I mean, fuck… Sorry, i didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. This is fine.” He looks down at the floor.  “Thank you.”

The three of them are all now looking a little distraught, and Eren kinda want’s to laugh at them. To break the tension, he offers, “I could come by and drop off some of my old clothes. If you want. I’m obviously not gonna wear them. And i doubt Jean will want them… well, not all of them.” He might keep a few and insist Jean wear them. The thought of his mate wearing his clothes, his _scent_ , gives him a satisfied feeling in his stomach. He looks at the size of the kid, and again is struck by just how small Connie is. “I’m not sure if even those will fit you though…”

“That would be great. Thanks. I’m fucking sick of having everything drag in the mud.” 

Jesus. This kid swears like Jean. The hell did he pick up that kind of language? If he’s from anywhere near Eren was brought up, he wouldn’t be using curse words as freely. Then again, Eren’s picked up the habit just from joining the army. Suppose it comes with the job. 

Still a little disconcerting seeing kids that literally look like they’re 10 swearing in conversation. Not even the street urchins that Eren used to run around with like a wildling as a child would swear like that. Nothing wrong with it, it’s just different. 

Connie grabs onto Bertolt and Reiners hands, swinging them slightly as he smiles apologetically up at them, “No offense guys.”

Reiner chokes, “It’s okay.” Looking for all the world like the kid could never possibly offend them with anything. 

“Why are you not in uniform?” Bertolt asks, looking down at the the kid. 

Now that everyones scents have calmed down, Eren focuses on the kid in questions scent. He’s gotta be a Beta. Doesn’t smell like one but… that’s the most probable conclusion. 

Connie’s face closes up and he puts on a smile like he’s putting on a mask, although Eren doesn’t think it’s fooling anybody. “Um, i went for a walk. Into town. I just got back.”

“Without us?

“Is that agains the law?”

The corner of Reiner’s lip quirks in annoyance. “No. What did you go into town for?”

“N-Nothing. I wanted to go into town,” Connie huffs out in a short breath. “What the fuck is your problem?”

This kid is giving Eren whiplash with this weird ass personality change, between the stuttering, meek little thing grateful for clothes and the snappy, staunch kid swearing like a seasoned barkeep and keeping a paper bag a secret. And still, even as close as he is now, Eren can’t trace a single scent of Beta on this kid. Not any trace of any primary gender. It’s slightly off-putting, now that Eren’s made aware of it. 

The other two alphas seem to take these changes in stride, barely blinking at the way the kid snarls at them. 

And then, Connie is suddenly shy and apologetic again, folding in on himself a little and making himself smaller, “Sorry.”

Eren’s just confused now, but he’s not going to mention it. Not when it seems he’s only just been accepted into their company by the skin of his teeth. He does suppose that whatever that brown paper bag the kid was holding before was probably the reason he went into town. 

Trost must be absolutely devastated about now. It wasn’t in all that great of condition before Eren turned into a titan. Can’t imagine it got any better after. 

“How bad is it?” He asks solemnly. “Trost? Is it… Can it be rebuilt?”

Do they have to abandon their city like Eren did with Shangeshina?

He hopes not. Really hopes not. Having a community or a pack broken up like his is… devastating. Not something he’s willing to experience again anytime soon. 

Connie licks his lips, “It’s okay. Mostly. Things got better after, you know, you blocked off the hole in the wall with that rock.” 

“Yeah… anytime,” Eren tries to joke. The grateful look on the kids face feels entirely undeserved. Eren barely remembers his time as a titan. All dark shades and blended sounds. Thoughts that were singular and demanding. Instinctive. Kinda like when he thinks about Jean. 

_His Mate._

He should be getting back to him. It’s been almost an hour he’s sure. The sky is starting to get darker and darker as more clouds roll in, and he wants to make sure his mate is in warm clothing, instead of the stupid nightgown he’s been freezing in the past few nights. His chest rumbles in anticipation at the mere thought of his mate bundled up in blankets, warm and happy and safe. Well, Eren sure is easy to please now, isn’t he?

Bertolt looks up at the sky, and nudges the blonde alpha next to him. Reiner glances at him and nods before addressing Eren, “We should probably get out of this weather. S’getting cold.”

Eren nods, feeling awkward for perhaps the seventh time in this entire meeting. “I can’t feel it, anymore remember?. Titan thing.” Three of them stare at him. Eren claps his hands to break the silence, “And… I should be getting back to Jean.”

“Jean?” Connie asks, face lighting up ever so slightly. 

“Yeah.”

“How is he? 

He sniffs. “Fine.” Annoying. Rebellious. Headstrong. But of course he is. He’s not just going to lie down like a good omega should and submit to Eren just because they’re mates. Jean’s barely even an omega, doesn’t listen, doesn’t submit, can’t reproduce—The hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

Fuck he should _not_ be thinking thoughts like that. Not even to himself. Jean’s his mate, he shouldn’t be thinking nasty thoughts like that about him. 

“He’s fine,” Eren finishes. Connie nods. Bertolt and Reiner look bored now, like they want to leave. Eren want’s to go too, except the kid keeps talking-

“I saw him in town and he didn’t look too-”

“Wait, what?” The world momentarily turns black as Eren processes that information. 

Jean’s in town? He’s gone? What the fuck? Eren told him to stay put. He ordered him to stay inside the cabin. Why the hell did he leave? He disobeyed his Alpha. Disobeyed Eren. And now he’s gone, Eren doesn’t know where he is, has to find him. Find his mate. His omega. 

But he can’t leave the training grounds. 

He’ll be in more trouble again and… and he little just got off the hook from being fucking _hung to death_ … 

“God-fucking-dammit, Jean.”

He’s stalking his way back to his and his mates new sleeping quarters before he even realises he’s moving, and then he’s in his room, sniffing the air for Jean’s flowery scent. It creeps up his nose and settles in his lungs like it’s made a home there already, making him feel near lightheaded with how deeply and methodically he’s breathing. 

His mate is _gone_. 

He shouldn’t have left him alone. Why did he leave him? What kind of stupid fucking alpha leaves their newly mated omega alone? What kind of dumbass omega disobeys his alpha, especially a strong one like Eren. He’s so fucking useless at this protection thing. First, he scares Jean, then he scares Connie, whose name he didn’t even know until the kid literally had to introduce himself to him after weeks of being in the same training corps. 

Eren doesn’t think he could feel any shittier about himself if he tried. At a loss for what to do, he sits on the bed, the nightgown his mates been wearing over the past few days clutched in his hand in front of his nose, and tries not to go berserk with rage and fear over his missing mate. 

Jean’s gone. He’s not near Eren, and though it wasn’t an issue before, it’s a major fucking one now. Eren can’t- he suddenly can’t function without his mate. Needs him like air, like a source of life. Needs the omega next to him right this second, so he can touch him and taste him and smell him. So he can run his tongue over the bond mark he put on the omegas neck. Yearns to feel the line of bones that make up his vertebrae sticking out from his back. 

Needs to feel those bones under stretched over skin, delicate and soft. 

_God, he’s going insane._

But he’s an Alpha without his Omega. He can’t just sit here and do nothing. He shouldn’t be sitting here. He needs to find his Omega. Needs to protect him. Keep him safe. 

And, once again, should never have fucking left him in the first fucking place, Eren you idiot. 

Never again. 

Never again. 

Never. 

Eren closes his eyes. Takes a deep breath. And pushes ever so slightly against the feeling inside of him that feels foreign, not quite his own. It’s right there, in his chest, shallow and near translucent in feel. It’s weird trying to actively, consciously seek this feeling inside of him out. The quest for avoidance of this feeling, this part of Jean inside him, has been more successful than he’d realised, now that he’s trying to obtain it. 

But the feeling _is_ there, faint at first, teetering on the edges of his mind. Feelings that he can’t quite put into words, hasn’t gotten enough of a taste for it yet. As soon as he thinks he has ahold of the feeling, and begins to assess it, it flits out of his reach again. 

Eren growls. _Fuck. Why is this so hard?_ Jean’s stupid emotions were literally assaulting Eren in the dungeons before, why are they being so coy with him now? 

Is it the distance? Eren whines pathetically at the thought. 

No, he has to push forward. Has to get a track on Jean, through his bond. Has to know he’s feeling fine at least, and then maybe he can find him. 

Eren’s got no idea how this emotional bond thing they have with each other works, but he’s just got the incessant need to connect with it. 

Trying to capture it again, he gently forces his way through the connection until he begins to feel nauseas. No, not him, _Jean_.  Nausea, and cold, and dizzy… what the hell is Jean doing?

The alpha begins to growl at the thought of his mate uncomfortable and alone. He’s alone, he needs him. His omega needs him. Has to get to him, has to move. 

Eren stands. 

A jolt of secondhand pain rips through his chest, and Eren howls. 

 _His omega is in pain_. 

He rushes for the door, near ripping it from his hinges in his mindless fury. Gets halfway down the corridor that leads outside when he’s suddenly stopped by a hand on his arm. 

Eren roars at the person. He follows the hand to stare into a pair of azure blue eyes, and his fight drops a little. It’s commander Erwin, looking at him with wary concern, body tense and still like he’s preparing for Eren to lunge at him. Good thing too, since Eren’s not entirely sure he won’t. 

“ _Woah,_ Jaeger, calm the fuck down.”

That’s his captains voice. He looks down to his right, slowly, and see’s Captain Levi glaring up at him. He pushes Eren back towards his room, and Eren struggles against his urge to just barge through them like and animal and continue his search for Jean. 

 _Jean_. “I have to find-“ 

“You’ve been free for barely two hours Jaeger and already you’re making me regret trying to help you. You wanting to get yourself locked up again? What the fuck is wrong with you? I told you to stay in the fucking room.”

Eren’s roughly manhandled back into his room, the door slamming closed behind him, with the higher ranked officers standing in front of it. Arms crossed. Levi looks around the room briefly, dark eyes narrowed and analysing, before settling them back on Eren. 

“Where’s your mate?” he asks. 

Eren’s breath turns into a painful lump in his throat.  

“I don’t— H-He’s gone.”

If possible, Levi’s eyes narrow further. 

“ _Gone?_ Where?”

Eren is trying to find the answer to that. “I don’t know. Town?” Connie said he saw him in town. 

Erwin leans down to whisper something in the captains ear, blue eyes flickering up towards Eren in a slight warning, and Eren realises he’s once again, unconsciously moved into a threatening, defensive position once again… _fucking again_. 

“Stop challenging me Jaeger,” Levi snaps, “I don’t have time for this bullshit right now. How many fucking times am i going to have to say this?”

He tries to calm down, he really does, but Levi’s not an Alpha, he’s a beta. And whilst Levi has no problem commanding a room and dominating others with his scathing words and presence, he lacks the underlying growls that come so effortlessly to Alphas when they attempt to do the same. 

He knows this because Armin had explained it to them as children, when Eren would bark and growl at some of the local kids who picked on the beta, and Eren would be confused as to why they didn’t listen to Armin when he growled and spat at them like Eren himself did. 

“Because i don’t have that power. My growls don’t resonate like yours do. They feel different.”

“What does resa- resonate mean?”

Armin’s face turns very serious, looking every bit like the scholar he’d always aspired to be. Even at such a young age, Eren knows that the blonde likes feeling smarter than people, likes knowing information that other people don’t. Makes him fee superior. Makes up for his physical shortcomings, Mikasa once told him. 

Somewhere along the way Armin lost that confidence and pride he had in his own intelligence. Perhaps between one city being attacked by titans and another. He hopes the beta can get it back one day. 

“Physically its to produce a deep sound, like a growl, but it makes you think or feel emotions and memories and stuff.”

“Why is mine different then?” 

“Cause you’re an alpha. Alphas can do it and Betas and Omegas can’t.”

“But why?”

“Survival, i guess? I actually don’t know.”

Eren’s still growling, the back of his throat tickling with the tremors. He still hasn’t backed down, because Levi snarls again “Jaeger, cut it,” which usually would be enough to subdue Eren, make him back off. It _used_ to be, before the break in the wall, but now Eren’s a titan, and now he’s _mated_ , and his mate- his Jean, is lost. He has to find him, has to apologise. Has to make sure he’s safe. 

And they’re getting in the way of that.

“Jaeger!”

Oh, that’s Erwin. And for the first time ever, Eren hears the Alpha in his voice. 

“Calm. Down.”

How can they expect him to calm down? 

“I. Need. To. Find. Him.” Each work is bitten out in a guttural snarl. The hairs on the back of his neck rise up as and his feet shift a little to find better footing as he prepares for a challenge. If they’re not going to let him leave, if they’re going to prevent him from finding his mate then…. then… 

“Christ Eren, are you a slow learner or what? If you leave this fucking room, then not only do you get into the shit, but so does your little mate. Not to mention myself and Erwin.”

Levi’s yanked back suddenly so he’s behind Ewrin, and Eren’s instincts quieten down enough to realise that this is the second time an Alpha has felt the need to protect someone form him in the span of a single hour. 

What is wrong with him?

Shaking his head free of the fog that’s clouded it over, he stutters, “Sorry. I’m sorry, i just-“ he looks up at them helplessly. 

Erwin’s eyes soften, pity swiping over his features. “It’s alright Eren. We’ll find him.”

“He’s in pain,” Eren says, a near whimper. He looks at the door behind him longingly, sitting down heavily on the bed instead. He’s so fucking frustrated and terrified with his mate that he’s not even sure how to comprehend the feelings. He hates Jean so much right now for leaving him and making him feel this way, but his arms physically yearn for the need to have him close. 

He hates him but he needs him. 

Fuck this bond. 

“He’ll come back,” Erwin says softly to him. “He’s you mate. He’ll always come back.”

He has to, Eren thinks. I can’t do this without him. 

The thought makes him feel sick.

 

* * *

 

Everything is so… so _broken._

The buildings, the alleys, the roads. 

Cobblestones torn up to form potholes in the streets, murky pools being steadily filled by the rain. Jean steps in one, the brown water splashing up onto his civilian clothes, his dark pants made even darker and muddier. Most windows are shattered, even on the buildings that weren’t directly destroyed by the titans. Just the sheer force of their footsteps as they stomped past must have been enough to make the glass tense and break under the pressure. 

Jean was there for the attack, jumping from building to building to titan to titan, but the adrenaline of trying to stay alive kept his focus narrowed. Blocked out anything that wasn’t Kill, Kill, Kill. 

Looking at it now, he wonders how he missed it. There’s just so much carnage, and damage, it’s hard for him to wrap his head around that he was there when this happened. He saw what caused this. 

Marco saw this too. He was here too. 

Jean refueses to even entertain the idea that Marco could potentially be caught up in this mess, that under one of these piles of rubble lays a sweet faced alpha with all the innocence of an angel. No way the world would be this cruel, not to a person like him. 

To Jean, sure. He can accept that the world hates him. He’s a fucking omega who’s now bonded to the biggest asshole monster currently within the walls, the world hates him and has a sick sense of humour to take out on him too.  

Somehow he stumbles into a small clearing full of peasants and citizens who seem to be living in make-shift shelters. The area looks as if he’s walked into one of the more slum-like parts of the city, but he see’s people in gold trimmed, albeit dust covered robes, which point to the contrary. 

These poor, well-to-do bastards are now living in rags, shivering around barrel built fires fuelled with the debris of the homes they no longer have. Unwashed hands cupped together as members of the church or army trail up and down with water canteens, food rations and blankets. It’s a shame the attack happened in winter instead of summer. 

It’s a shame the attack happened at all. 

Somewhere, an argument breaks out. A women shrieks and a baby begins to wail shrilly. 

 _Everything is so broken_ , even the people. 

The smell of fear is almost blinding. Attacking his nasal cavities like vinegar. He has a handkerchief wrapped over his mouth and nose, originally to keep out the smoke, but it works to dampen the force of the smells around him. 

Still, his eyes sting with it. Red and irritated, he wipes at them angrily as turns away from the scene of misery. 

Up ahead is a small Military Outpost, three men standing behind a desk under a tent with a large sign reading Recruitment. A growing line of people at the front. It’s normal for the Army to receive an influx of recruits once a city has been attacked. Shangishina was the same, and now Trost… theirs just no other option anymore. Everything they have has been destroyed, and at least the Army offers a place to sleep, food to eat, and a chance at revenge. 

It’s not why Jean signed up. 

It is why Eren did. 

Eren. He doesn’t want to think about him, which isn’t a new feeling. But right now he can’t afford to think about him, or the gnawing guilt in his chest that makes him feel like he’s doing something tremendously bad that he knows he’s going to get into great trouble for. Whatever… he’s used to that feeling, and used to shoving it deep down inside of himself. 

What he’s struggling more with is the voice in his head, a near whimper thats pleading with him _to go home, go to Eren, return to your mate, he’s upset, he needs you, you’re not safe._

It’s hard to shove down that voice, so instead he tries to distract himself with the thoughts of finding Marco. 

_Return to Eren._

No, he has to find Marco. 

_Return to your Alpha._

No! 

Gritting his teeth, he storms over to the Recruitment desk and slams his hands down on the waterlogged slap of wood they’re pretending is a table. The two betas who are busy dealing with sign ups pause in their work jump and stare at him wonderingly, but the Alpha running the little party barely glances his way, staring down at a clipboard with a pencil in hand. 

“We appreciate your enthusiasm, but ‘back of the line if you want to sign up,” the alpha grunts. He’s an elderly looking man in a Rose Guard uniform, hair grey and thinning, eyes wrinkled around the corners. 

“Already a recruit,” Jean barely keeps himself from snarling with impatience. “I’m looking for someone.” The man still doesn’t look up, doesn’t say anything either, so Jean continues. “Wondering if you knew where the recruits are stationed for clean up duty, or maybe any Military Station?”

Surely Marco would be around one of those. It’s weird to Jean that there were so many recruits still at the training grounds when he left, figuring that they would all still be out helping like Marco but… it makes sense that they’d return, givien the choice. And that Marco would choose to stay. 

He just needs to find a clean-up station thats run by the Army instead of the church or any other devoted relief administration. They’re sure to have his name down somewhere and what section of the city he’s delegated to, because there has to be some level of organisation within the Army that he can use to track him down. 

It’ll save him from wandering around the city aimlessly for another 2 hours like he has been. 

The two betas are still looking at Jean, like they’re almost scared to talk to him, their wide eyes are flicking from Jean to the Alpha uncertainly. Clearly they’re to be of no help whatsoever, so Jean focuses on the Alpha. “Hey!” he shouts, a little too aggressively. Maybe too desperately. “I asked you a question!”

At this point he doesn’t care if he’s talking to the king himself. He just wants to find Marco. 

Find Marco and fall into his arms. Cry about the last couple of days he’s had. A lump wells up in his throat at the thought of finally being able to talk to someone who will listen to him and sympathise with him. Maybe even be angry with him. 

He feels so lonely right now. 

_Return to your Alpha._

No!

“ _Hey!_ ”

The Alpha finally looks up. Jean’s not sure what he sees, but it’s enough for him to put his clipboard down and give Jean his full attention, crinkled eyes narrowing as he sniffs the air. He looks at Jean for a long time, almost reprimanding enough that the omega begins to feel a little embarrassed at his outburst. Not only is this Alpha looking at him, but the two betas beside him are too, and whoever is behind him in the line. Jean can feel their eyes on him, raising the fine hairs on the back of his neck. 

The silence finally breaks when the Alpha snaps, “Back to work, these people aren’t going to recruit themselves.”

It’s a second before Jean and the Betas realise who the man is talking to since he’s staring at _Jean_ , and the two Betas quickly duck their heads to continue their duties. 

Jean pointedly does not look away from the man, but it’s difficult. The urge to submit is right under his skin, but he has a mission to accomplish. Needs to find Marco. So Jean’s stare rolls over into a glare, and he crosses his arms. 

The Alpha snorts like he’s amused, and flicks his head off to the right. “Over in the Mitleid area, by the church. There’s a substation full of Military personnel doing fuck knows what. Taking death tolls. Ask them.”

It’s something. They sound more established that these three anyway. Jean turns to leave but he’s stopped by the Alpha asking, “Where’s your mate Kid?” 

Jean would’ve ignored him, if the question hadn’t caught him so off guard. The phrase, i don’t have one is the first natural response he has, so he goes with it. 

“Don’t have one.”

The Alpha snorts again, in that same amused way that makes Jean feel like he’s on the outside of some joke. “Sure.”

Jean bristles, and even though he knows he hasn’t got time for this, he turns back to the man anyway and agues, “You calling me a liar?”

He’s not sure where this aggression is coming from. Somewhere deep inside of him. Something that feels distinctly like Eren for some fucked up reason. 

“I guess so,” the Alpha admits blatantly. “Kid, you smell like my wife when we first got together. A newly mated Omega. Just wondering where you’re Alpha is. It’s unusual to see a couple apart so soon. Not to mention dangerous for you.”

“I don’t need him,” Jean sneers. 

“Thats what they all say.”

“I don’t!” He says, not even aware of the distressed tone in his voice that leaks out into his scent. Doesn’t notice anything other than the fact that this man is wrong and he doesn’t need Eren, he does’t want Eren. 

_Return to your mate._

The suddenly man flicks his eyes around uncertainly. “Alright kid,” he says, “Keep moving would ya, we have a job to do here.”

Jean leaves with a confused, angry feeling inside of him, wondering what the fuck kind of conversation that was.  

 

 

* * *

 

 

The closer he gets to Mitlead the more acrid the scent of blood becomes. Before it would just be in little patches lingering around dead animals that haven’t been cleared away, or bodies laying under sheets that hadn’t been collected yet. It’s metallic and thick, Jean’s handkerchief barely holding up against it to make the air something breathable. Everyone else he passes seems to have the same idea, strips of fabric tied around their noses and mouths, eyes all red and bloodshot either from the stench or surroundings. 

He passes people crying. A few Alphas holding pups close to them, staring stoically at red stained bedsheets laid across decomposing corpses. An Omegan woman clutching something small and grey and lifeless to her chest as another Alpha woman tries to comfort her through her own tears. Families in mourning over their missing puzzle pieces. 

Jean keeps walking in search of the station. 

A cold breeze blows smoke right into his face. He squints through it. 

The sky is beginning to darken, he doesn’t have much daylight left. He’ll search all night if he has to. He’s not going to give up. 

Jean’s feet are beginning to hurt though, from the sheer amount of walking. Mitlead took longer to get to than estimated since the majority of the roads were engulfed in rubble. Jean’s hands and knees are scratch and soiled from climbing over the mounds. 

“Marco!” He yells. Voice slightly manic at this point and defiantly corse. “Marco!”

There’s another noise.

He turns towards it.

A little girl is standing a few houses away. She shouts, “Mama!”, and it throws Jean off a little at the similarities. Despite himself, he wishes the girl, who can’t be any older than two, would shut up. The name sounds to close, how will Marco know where to find him if he’s distracted by other cries?

“Marco!”

“Mama!”

The kids mother is probably dead. 

“Marco! Fucking… _Marco!_ ”

“ _Mama!_ ”

Christ, he just needs to find him. Find Marco. Find your _Alpha_. No, return to Marco… _Return to Alpha._

“Mama!

 _“Shut up!”_ Jean shouts

The girl suddenly bursts into tears. They make dark tracks down her dirty, mud stained cheeks. There’s blood in her pale blonde hair and on her plain brown dress, dark and red as if she’d been caught in a patch of wild berries. Jean swallows and looks away, head down. He shouldn’t do that. Out at her. He’s a solider for christ sake. 

There’s no one around on this street that seems to be noticing the girl, so he takes a steadying breath and makes his way over. The girl understandably looks at him with fear in her wide blue eyes, stumbling back a few steps. She trips over a rock and falls harshly on her backside, a fresh wave of tears escaping down her face. 

“Hey,” Jean tries to say softly, even though his voice is still hoarse as hell. “Are you okay?”

The girl keeps crying. Large heaving sobs that only children can seems to muster. It’s broadening on hysteria now, as she cries “Mama. Mama. Mama!” 

“Okay, okay.” Jean replies, looking around as if the mother is going to magically appear. There’s no one. The street is barren. Lifeless. The girl’s cries heard by no-one but him. 

He pats the childs head softly, inspecting the blood in her hair to see if medical attention is needed. It’s just a surface graze, nothing too deep, he figures. She’ll be fine once he drops her off at the station, or maybe a shelter if he passes one along the way. 

It’s what Marco would do. 

He picks her up gently, and fumbles at the way she immediately clings to him, wrapping birdlike arms around his neck and burring her face into his bond mark. It hurts, because it hasn’t healed yet. And because of what it reminds him of. 

That he’s trapped. He’s chained. 

He just wants it gone. 

_Return to your alpha._

Closing his eyes against the feeling of panic threatening to overtake him, he takes a deep breath into the little girls hair, and is assaulted by the scent of petunias, milk and terror. It’s a weird mix. She’s an Alpha, he discerns, and deceptively heavy, for how thin and small she is. He hoists her higher in his arms as he begins to walk with her. 

She’s still whimpering and hiccupping into his neck when Jean asks her for her name, which she simply replies with a woeful “Mama.” Jean gives up on trying to talk to her, and instead tries to make his scent as calming and confident as possible, hoping to settle her. 

The effect is almost instant, as her little body goes slack in his arms and she nuzzles into him. 

A small pang of something rips through Jean’s chest, and he holds her just a little bit tighter.

Jean’s never been good with children. _No…_ He’s never been _around_ children. Not young children like this. He can only remember what he’s seen other mother do for their kids, the hugging and soft words, although he’s not sure what the soft words spoken were exactly. Could never hear them. So he keeps hugging her. 

The sun is covered entierly in cloud now, indicating that it’s most likely going to rain or snow soon, at least before nightfall. It was begining to snow when Jean left the training camp, and has been swerving between clear skies and heavy rains since he’s been in the city. At least the lack of light, whilst a hinderance to his vision, means that fires will be lit for warmth and luminosity. And where there’s fire there’s people. 

There’s a glimmer of light just at the end of the street. Approaching it he see’s a large tent with the Rose Guard insignia on it’s banner. It’s incredibly crowded inside, as people rush for shelter from the rain. A couple of Rose Guards are shouting and pointing, directing people. 

One of them suddenly notices Jean standing out in the rain with the child and grabs a blanket, ushering the omega inside as he wraps it around his shoulders. “Line up here,” he says, placing him in a line full of women and children. 

It’s incredibly loud and congested with people, but it’s warmer than outside. Jean had changed into his civilian clothing before he left in hopes of being inconspicuous. Now he wishes he hadn’t, since they’re not as warm as his winter uniform would be. He wraps the blanket tighter around himself and the little girl to better contain the body heat between them, but the blanket is thin and threadbare. 

“Next!” someone at the front of the line shouts, and everyone shuffles forward. It reminds Jean of when he was being issued his 3dmg gear in his first week of training. 

Someone shoves him forward from behind, a small elderly lady with 4 children all under the age of ten gathered around her like baby chicks to a mother hen. She glares at him. 

“Next!”

On the other side of the tent is a line full mostly of males, with some females scattered amongst them, none of them appearing younger than 14. A man with a thick set of eyebrows is looking critically over a piece of identification papers belonging to a smaller man with similar eyebrows. _They’re brothers_ , Jean bets, _and that’s probably another registration queue for the army._

The people in that particular line are all looking over his way, he notices. Not specifically at him, but more at the line in its entirety. He supposes it must be difficult for people, Alphas especially, to see a gathering of Omegas and children and not have the urge to help, to chase away the invisible threat causing the anguish on their faces and stress in their scent. 

Instead, they have to stand by and watch as the government deals with them. 

“Next!”

The person shouting is an Alpha woman. She has thickset shoulders and beady eyes, her black hair tied up into a neat bun. She’s looking at the young mother standing in front of Jean stoically. 

“Name, Gender, Address, Number children and adults in need of housing.”

The younger mother stutters, “A-Andrea Malou. O-Omega.”

“Address,” the Alpha prompts. 

“41 Mennyt street. Mitlead area…” 

“Number of children and adults in need of housing?”

The mother is carrying a newborn to her chest, but has a young boy cowering beside her, clutching her leg. “One adult and two children-“

“Both Betas?” 

The mother pauses, slightly confused, “Oh, Yes? Yes.”

The woman writes something down on her desk, looking at the little boy briefly. 

“Alpha?” 

“P-Pardon?”

“Your Alpha? Where are they?”

The woman’s fearful scent turns into something mournful. “She’s… She’s…. gone.”

“Deceased?”

“….yes.” Whilst the Alpha looks unfazed, the Omega’s shoulders have begun to shake. She weeps, “Oh god,” and the baby in her arms swaddled in a woollen cloth begins to mewl and sniffle. 

The alpha doesn’t give out much sympathy as she just stares at her impatiently. “Calm down please,” she says. Jean feels as if this isn’t the first time she’s had an Omega or Mother break down in front of her like this. Her instincts must be immune to the scent the mother is realising, because whilst she doesn’t even bat an eyelid, the two Alphas behind her look distinctly uncomfortable. 

The alphas in the line opposite them more so. Some blatantly staring, and some even wringing their hands like they want to walk over. 

All this for an omega. Jean wonders if he put on the same show if he’d get the same treatment.  

Doubts it. Instincts run deep, but prejudice can run deeper. 

Jean takes as much of a step backwards from her and the scent of loss as he can. The child in his arms squirms in discomfort for a moment, before settling down again when Jean begins to rocks her. He rests his chin atop her head as he stands and waits. Can feel her tiny heartbeat against his collarbone, like a moth fluttering against window glass. 

Her hands are cold where they’re clutched against his shirt collar. 

“-make your way over to the far table at the end first, to report the death. Then go to the church across the street and give them this,” she hands them a slip of paper with information on it, and a very official signature stamped on the bottom. “They’ll delegate housing to you for the time being.”

Ah, so he’s in the line for families that need temporary housing given to them. Most likely these are the ones that have nowhere else to go. No families, neighbours or Packs to take them in. Many people move out of the city, back to whatever village they came from. 

Shengishina was the same. People just deserted everything the had once the dust settled. It must be weird, not having a pack to rely on anymore. Jean’s more than used to it, in fact, he still finds it weird when members of the 104th acknowledge him and ask him questions or stand up for him in some way. As few a times as there have been, those times gave him a weird, warm feeling that he wasn’t used to. 

To suddenly be alone and vulnerable after a lifetime of comfort, these people must feel desperate. 

There’s bound to be some hungry packs out there looking to expand their numbers. Taking in widowed omegas and their children to marry them off to some Alpha or Beta who’s probably already got their own family. And what can these people do but go along with it? They can’t just join the army like everyone else, not with children… 

They’re just easy prey. 

The woman shuffles along, still weeping. Jean watches her stumble into the crowd of people towards the back of the tent. Death resignation. He shivers. 

“Next!”

Jean swallows and steps forward. 

“Name, Gender, Address, Number of Adults and Children in need of housing.”

“I’m looking for someone,” Jean explains. The little girl in his arm squirms again, mumbling something into his neck. He grips her tighter, willing her to stay still as he stares this alpha woman in the eyes. 

“Listen _Omega_ , your Alpha is probably dead if they haven’t found you by now,” she says, and now that Jean’s closer he can see the lines of weariness on her face, and the dark circles under her eyes. She’s not as  much of an impenetrable force as her voice and bland statements would make you believe. “Now, if you and your child need a place to-“

“My what?” His child? “I’m not… i don’t have a child. I’m looking for someone.”

The alpha looks pointedly at his arms, where the little girl is squirming harder. He hoists her higher onto his hip and growls a small warning at her to be quiet. It doesn’t work, and the girl begins to cry, “Mama!”

“I need your Name and Address, as well as the gender of your child.”

“She’s not mine.”

She snorts, in a _well obviously_ type of way. If it was so fucking obvious why the hell is she asking in the first place? “Your sister then.”

“No, listen-“

“There’s a church across the road who is delegating housing to omegas and children in need. They’ll take care of you and _the_ child, but i need some information from you first,” she’s talking in a furriatingly placating way and Jean can feel his blood beginning to boil. 

“I don’t need to be taken care of! I just need-“

“It’s been a horrific week for everyone in the city, and we are on our last rounds of civilian support, so i would suggest that you register for placement now before it’s too late. Otherwise you and you sister will have to fend for yourselves. And i don’t think you’d like what becomes of _your kind_ when they’re out of options.”

Jean blinks at her. 

“Fucking…. listen, i just need to know if Marco Bolt is stationed-“

The alpha takes a deep sigh and waves her hand, “If you’re not here to register then move out of the line. We have other people to take care of.”

Jean glares at her, opens his mouth to give a seething response but he’s pushes aside by the elderly woman and her collection of kids that were behind him. 

“Fuck,” he swears.

How the hell is he supposed to get any fucking information around here? He looks around the room. It’s becoming more crowded by the minute, as people run inside from the rain that’s pelting down. The wind’s begun to pick up, causing the entire tent to sway and tremble under ever gust, and any loose fabric to flap feral and loud. 

“Mama,” the little girl cries again. Jean has half a mind just to put her on the ground here and leave her. Maybe stick her back in the line and let someone else deal with her. She’s not his problem. _Not his kid._ He’s gotten her to shelter, someone else will surely take her. 

But even as he thinks it he can suddenly feel the coldness in his chest, as if he’s already let her go. She’s warm in his arms, like a tiny furnace. And her weight, although heavy, is still comforting. 

He’ll find her somewhere to stay later. After he finds Marco. 

_Find your Alpha._

No, goddamit, find _Marco_. 

As a last ditch effort he decides to head to the back of the tent where the mother and her kids in front of him were directed. It’s possible that Marco is already back at the Training Barracks, probably eating dinner with everyone. Maybe he’s even looking for Jean right now. 

He’s probably already heard what’s happened. Must be worried, he’s that type of person. He’d worry about Jean. He was always worrying about Jean. Jean liked that. 

He was the only one to ever worry about Jean. 

“Mama.” 

Jean’s getting annoyed now. He drops to his knees and puts the little girl on her feet, grabs her by her think shoulders. “We’ll find your Mama soon, okay? We just have to find someone else first. Just shut up for now.”

Jean doesn’t think for one second that any of this is getting through to her since she’s an actual baby, but he’s not bothered by it. He’s lying anyway, because he’s sure the girls mother is dead. She still manages to pout at him like she knows he’s choosing his own selfish wants over hers. It’s whatever, if she wants to randomly walk away from him on her own then that’s fine, but she’s still clutching onto the collar of his shirt, so he wraps her up tighter into the blanket like a caterpillar in a cocoon and picks her up. 

 

* * *

 

The far end of the tent is depressing. Jean finds himself breathing through his mouth instead of his nose to block the scents coming through. 

There’s another line, which Jean sighs at, not particularly enthused about having to stand around and wait again. However he’s getting so tired now, still hasn’t slept  this one is moving significantly faster than the others. 

Probably because there are several people up the front taking in information instead of just 1 or 2, with some people even walking around with clipboards. From the insignias on their jackets they all look like trainee recruits, and Jean feels a swell of excitement because finally he’s found someone that could help him. 

They’re barely helpful. And Jean finds himself once again being directed somewhere else. Again. He’s… he’s starting to feel hopeless again. Dread is creeping back up his spine and taking over his reserves of optimism that he’s ever going to find Marco. 

But he has to, he tells himself. He hasn’t got another choice than returning to Eren. And he’d rather kill himself than do that. 

No, that’s extreme. He’d rather… rather… he doesn’t know. Pushes it out of his mind for the 100th time since he left the godforsaken dungeons he and his mate were kept in. 

Outside is completely dark now, and raining. Jean looks nervously back into the tent, debating wether or not he should just leave it for the night, find somewhere to hunker down and pick up where he left off his search in the morning. But he can’t. He has a brat in his arms and a friend to find. 

“Marco!” He shouts into the rain. 

He was directed to a place round the corner, where he’d been told all the recruits found had been placed along the wall. Doesn’t understand what that means, but there wasn’t time to question the phrasing, not when the person speaking wasn’t even speaking to him specifically. They were addressing another family, and Jean just happened to overhear. 

“Everybody we have is outback, lined up against the wall. Soldiers and Uniformed Personnel are at the end.”

The rain is heavy and cold and soaks them both immediately. It drips off of Jean’s forelock and into his eyes, making him squint and shake his head. The blanket they have falls to the ground as he begins to walk forward. 

He sees the place the person inside spoke of. It's hard to miss. 

A narrow street, with no windows or doors. Just bricks made shiny from moss growth and rain.  A historical part of the city. 

Something feels wrong. 

Jean suddenly doesn’t want to be here. 

It’s gloomy and shadowy, lamplight flickering along the brick sides of it, making the walls seem long and endless as they reach up towards the clouds. Like the walls keeping the titans at bay. 

It’s dark, but it’s not desolate. Figures dressed in black move in an out of the entrance. Dark and dreary, smelling of ichor and death. 

Jean _really_ doesn’t want to be here. His stomach has twisted itself into what feels like a mass of eels, slick and slimy, squirming inside him. Bile threatens to rise in his throat, but it’s subdued by the adrenaline charging through his heart every time it beats as he wills himself forward. 

An elderly man dressed in dark brown robes hands him a lantern at the entrance. His eyes are beady and dark, his chest glints in the light from the golden cross hanging around his neck. 

“God leaves no one behind,” he says. Jean blinks. Walks forward. 

People are wandering up and down aimlessly. They travel in groups crowded around a single lantern. There’s not many children. The few that can be seen are clinging to the shadows of the adults. 

The smell is worse than inside the tent. Indescribable. Doesn’t even know where to begin. It’s a physical smell that burns his eyes. His chest. His heart. Jean continues to breathe through his mouth, securing the handkerchief around his jaw tighter. The water does nothing to dilute the blood and sorrow around them. 

All along the ground are bodies, haphazardly propped up as if they were merely resting for the night. 

He… he doesn’t want to be here. 

Why is he here.

Marco’s not here. He can’t be, _he can’t_ …  

“Mama…”

More squirming. Jean doesn’t notice. Keeps walking forwards. It’s difficult to hold the child and the lantern, but he manages. Isn’t even thinking about the strain on his arms. 

He’s not here. He’s not, he’s not, he’s not… 

“Mama.”

Marco can’t be.  

He reaches the end of the street. Stands and stares at the wall. Theres a dozen bodies on the ground, all adorning the swords of the trainee insignia. Jean swallows, pushes himself to move forward so the lantern can light their faces. 

He can’t be. 

A girl with red hair and one leg ripped off, the white bone made brown from where it’s resting in a muddied puddle. 

A man with his lower jaw cocked open as if in a scream, head tilted back towards the sky, mouth slowly filing up with rain. It escapes from the corners of his lips and drips down his neck. 

A boy with blonde hair, staring up at them with eyes so piercing blue Jean feels the cold of the ice they resemble. 

“Mama.”

A boy with freckles. 

He can’t be. 

“Mama.”

No…

“Juheta!” 

The girl screams. Flails in his arms as Jean falls to his knees, lantern wedged in the mud from where it’s been dropped. She leaves his arms and runs down the alleyway. “Mama!” she screams again. 

Jean stares forward. Looks at the freckle specked hand, blood in the palm, up to the half missing torso. The wound is so large and so black in the shadows like a void has opened in the body, leaving an entire arm missing. He sits and stares at it for a long time. 

It can’t be. 

“T-Thank you.” 

Someone touches his shoulder. He flinches, falling sideways onto the ground. A woman is standing above him, holding the little girl. She has the same blonde hair and blue eyes. The mother. 

“Thank you for keeping her safe,” she says. Her eyes are dripping, irritated and red from tears. “Thank you.”

Jean only stares. His mind unable to process anything other than the sight of freckled hands and missing limbs. He turns away from her. Back to the body in front of him. The face of the body is too eclipsed in darkness for him to make out any features, so with a trembling hand, he reaches for the handle of the lantern. It dislodges from the mud with a suction noise. 

It’s so heavy. His arm is shaking. It’s almost too much to lift it high enough to the boy's face. It feels almost heavier than Jean, like his body is going to tip over at the weight of it, like he’s made of air. He can’t feel himself. His body. Can only focus on lifting the lantern to see. 

It can’t be.

“Marco…”

No.

“Oh god.”

No, please. _Please. Please don’t do this to him. He can’t- he’s not able to- he can’t handle this. Can’t deal with this. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t._

The lantern drops as he curls over himself. Small and anguished in the rain. His hands come up to his mouth to stifle the bile that rises, but its a fruitless attempt as he vomits into the mud puddle below him. Suddenly, the weightless feeling he had before vanishes, and a feeling of solid stone settles over his body. 

As if his bones are turning to rock, jagged and rough to the touch. Painful and immoveable from their curled position. He can’t sit up, can only sit curled on his knees. Hands clasped in his hair so tightly his nails dig into the skin of his palms. 

He can’t feel anything though. 

Only feels cold. 

So cold. 

He can’t- He can’t think. Can’t breathe. His lungs are clenched in a half breath, no air making it in or out. They sting painfully. But he can’t- he can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Doesn’t know what to do. Doesn’t want to do anything except to lie there in the mud. Let the ground soak him up like the blood of his best friend. 

Marco’s dead. And Jean has no idea what to do. 

_Come back. Return to your Alpha. Return to me, Jean._

It’s so cold. He’s shivering. 

_Come back to me._

He wants to go home. 

_Come back._

 

* * *

 

Eren can feel him. He’s coming back. His omega is returning to him. He _knows_ because he… he can just _feel_ it. The ache in his chest, the anxiety over the distance is lessened as his mate comes closer and closer. 

He stands. Levi jolts at the sudden movement, looking up into the Alphas face. “The hell Jaeger?”

“He’s coming.”

_He’s hurt._

“He needs me,” he moves towards the door, hand on the door handle. “I have to get to him. He needs me.”

He’s in pain. Oh, so much pain.

Eren whines. He can feel something inside of him, something separate from their bond, something distinctly inhuman shifting inside of him at the thought of his omega in pain and _Eren’s not there to protect him from it._

Erwin's scent is old in the room, he must have left hours ago without Eren noticing. Levi seems to have been with him the entire time, watching Eren pace back and forth for hours, worrying himself senseless whilst trying to reign his instincts in. To not freak out. To not break out. 

To not go completely insane and unleash something he can’t control. 

“Take it easy,” Levi tells him. “If he’s coming back it’s a good thing. He’ll be here soon.”

“He needs me,” Eren pleads, “Please, i need to go to him, he’s—“

He’s in so much pain. 

“Jaeger!”

But Eren’s already out the door. Into the stormy night. He’s sprinting barefoot through the mud to the front gates of the training barracks. 

“Jaeger!” Someone is shouting at him distantly, but he can’t hear past the thundering in his ears. Retrun to your mate. Return to your omega. He needs you. He’s in pain. 

The camps front gates are large and looming. Eren will tear through them if he has to. He slams himself up against the wood, it groans loudly in protest against the force. Why are they closed? They need to be open. He needs his mate. He can’t get through and he needs to get to his mate but these fucking doors are in the way-

“Jaeger! You can’t get through by punching them.”

Eren turns. His fists are covered in read from where he’s been beating senselessly at the barricade. Already they’ve begun to heal over. 

Levi stands behind him. Glaring. Eye’s flickering from angry Alpha to the watchmen above in the gate towers, who peer down at them, unease stifling their scents. 

“He needs me,” Is all Eren can say. It’s all he can think about. 

He feels the inhumanness latch it’s claws onto his spine, feels himself becoming too small for his body. He wan’t to scream at them in anger, release it onto them, let himself be consumed by it. Whatever the result may be. ‘

"Open it. Now." A growl. A thick wisp of smoke leaves his mouth. He doesn’t notice.

Levi stares. 

There’s more shouting around him then the gates are wrenched open. 

There’s Jean. Sanding there. Arms wrapped around himself. Hair painted to his forehead. Eren chokes with the urge to reach for him. His hands hover. He grabs for his shoulders. 

“Jean?” 

Golden eyes are made of glass, unseeing. Eren shakes him slightly. 

“Hey…”

He’s shaking. So is Eren. 

The pressure to just immerse himself in his omega is too overwhelming to withstand, and Eren lunges forward to envelope the omega in his arms. Buries his nose in the crook of his neck and breaths deeply. Honeysuckle and Mint.

The relief makes him weak at the knees. Because Jean’s been _gone_ , he’s been _missing_. _Away from Eren_. 

Eren left him too. 

“Fuck, Jean, I’m so sorry.” 

Jean’s drowned in rainwater. Completely soaked. Eren checks him over, turning his chin left and right. He looks… he looks like death warmed over. Pale, hollow. But there aren’t any obvious signs of injury, which leaves Eren in a state of confusion because… he knows his omega is in pain right now. But there’s no blood, no wound. 

“Are you hurt? Where-?” He trails off, blinking in uncertainty. 

Jean’s glassy eyes begin to focus, tilts his head up to look at Eren. His eyes are red and raw. 

“He’s dead,” he rasps. 

Eren’s stomach curdles. Feels sick. 

“It’s my fault,” Jean continues. Eyes welling up in tears. Hands clenching themselves in his jacket. “My fault, my fault, _it’s my fucking fault_.”

Eren shakes his head, opens his mouth to speak but only hot air that fogs as it leaves his lips. He’s not sure what to say. Doesn’t understand. 

“Who… Marco?”

Jean flinches. 

_Shit._

Eren looks over the omegas shoulder, at the leaden road he would have taken to get here from the city. The drops of rain reflecting in the torchlight looks like teeth around it, as if Jean had just emerged from the mouth of a raging beast. 

He wants to get him inside. Now. Need him somewhere warm and safe. In their room. 

Jean follows along silently when Eren begins to guide him by the small of his back. 

Someone is walking beside them, Levi, he thinks. But it barely registers.

There could be a titan attacking them right now, but Eren could only focus on each shiver that wracks the omegas body, or ever wet gasp for breath, like Jean’s being held underwater. 

The tension in his shoulders relaxes once Jean is seated inside their room, on their bed. 

Levi’s standing at the doorway, face indecipherable as he stares. Eren’s getting sick of the man just watching all the time, but when the door closes and the sound of a lock clicking from the outside can be heard, Eren’s shoulders droop entirely. 

They’re alone. They’re together. His mate is with him. He’s safe. 

Despite himself, Eren smiles. 

“Fucking hell,” he says into Jean’s knee, where his head has found a resting place. He’s crouched on the floor so he can better see the omegas face. “Don’t leave me like that again. Okay? Never again.”

Armin said once that it was dangerous for newly bonded mates to be separated. Eren understands now. Didn’t feel it at first, not until he realised how far away Jean was. 

“I told you to wait. I told you I would help,” he tells him. He searches Jean’s face. 

He still feels the pain coming from the omegas scent. Takes a deep breath. Smells of blood and death and fear. Eren coughs, “Fuck.”

Jean is still silent. Still trembling. Staring down at the floor blankly. 

There’s another scent to him, on his jacket. It’s only faint, deluged mostly from rainwater and mud. It’s still there though, the scent of a child. Eren’s eyebrows narrow. Jean had a kid with him?

He said Marco was dead. 

Suddenly, as if in answer Jean shudders violently. A low whine cuts through the air between them. 

“My fault. It’s my fault.” He curls over, and Eren pushes him back into a sitting position. 

“No it’s not,” he tries, not sure what it is that Jean’s blaming himself for. “It’s not your fault. Hey,” he wipes away a stray tear falling over a cheekbone. The tear the only warm thing about him. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not your fault.”

“It’s is.”

“No, Jean no.”

He sucks in a breath. “It’s my fault. I should have been there with him. I-i should have been there t-to help him or-or something. But i-i was… I was…”

He looks up. 

“I was with you.”

Eren swallows. The pain he feels from Jean manifests itself into an agonising lump in his throat.

“I was with you,” Jean repeats. “He’s dead because of me. I couldn’t save him. Because I was trying to save you.”

_Was it worth it?_

Eren knows the answer to that. 

_No. It’s not_ _. Not to Jean._

Without another word, Jean sheds his clothing, crawls into bed, and tucks himself tightly into the corner. 

The pain Eren felt before is suddenly sucked away from him. _All_ feeling is sucked away from him. He can’t feel Jean at all. Just a vacant sensation in his hear of something that once was there. Panic sets in. “Jean?” he croaks. 

It’s so lonely and empty without him inside. 

“Jean I can’t… I can’t feel you.”

Where has he gone? He’s right in front of him physically… but Eren can’t _fee_ l him emotionally. He’s empty. Abandoned. 

“Jean, don’t leave me.”

Reaches out, touches the blanket, touches Jean.

“I can’t-“

No response.

“Jean!


	4. And Make Us Bleed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright so this one is kinda boring but it just had to set some stuff up. 
> 
> Sicc Sicc.

Where is he?

_In bed._

Has he eaten?

_No._

He has to eat.

_I know he has to eat._

Has he moved?

_No, he’s just… laying there. Won’t even speak to me._

He has to get up. You can’t train without him.

_Mikasa, for fuck's sake, his friend just died. What the fuck do you want me to do?_

Make him.

_I can’t._

What?

_I can’t._

Why not?

…

 _He’s shut me out._  

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Jean, please get up.”

No response. 

“Jean.”

Nothing. 

“ _Jean, please._ ”

The rain hasn’t stopped. It’s washed away whatever snowfall the last week had brought, and hidden any strands of sunlight from view. It’s cold, and dark and dreary. Eren hates it. 

He hates this standstill of life. The clouds, carrying endless amounts of down pour, the prohibition on his training, the Jean sized ball on his bed. Nothing is moving. 

“Jean, get up.”

The ball doesn’t shift an inch. Wrapped in a blanket in the far corner of the bed against the wall, Jean has been curled for the past three days. Eren doesn’t know how to fix it. He sits on the edge of the bed and just stares, trying to squash the frustration bubbling up inside of him and overflowing into the desolate hole where the _feeling_ of Jean used to be. 

It’s weird to miss something so foreign and new, but God does Eren ever miss it. He feels so empty, so alone, and it terrifies him. 

He runs a hand through his hair, scratching the back of his neck as he sighs and falls back onto the bed, his head softly hitting what he thinks is his mates toes under the blankets. They flinch away like scattering birds, and Eren closes his eyes. 

He’s not got any idea what to do. Hasn’t had to comfort someone he doesn’t know before. Mikasa was different, she seemed to want to open up to him when she first arrived at his house as a little girl. Armin he’s known for forever, and when his parents died it seemed like second nature to throw an arm around his shoulders and let him curl into his body heat. 

Jean doesn’t even want to be touched by him. 

“Jean, get up and come to breakfast. You have to eat.” 

Angry at the constant failed attempts at rousing his mate, he huffs, irritated, and walks to the door. Before he slams it closed he looks longingly at the ball and says, “I’ll bring you something back.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s a watery mess of scrambled eggs and barely grilled potatoes for breakfast. Eren’s not feeling hungry, but he eats anyway. 

The rest of the remaining 104th are seated around him. The first few days of sitting with them were awkward, but it was more so on Eren’s behalf than the others. He was the one feeling awkward and ill-fitting at the table, whilst everyone else talked and ate around him. 

Ymir kept looking up at him suspiciously during forkfuls of food the first time he ate with them, until Christa nudged her ribs none to gently and broke the ice with a kind, “We’re glad you weren’t executed Eren.” It made him choke on his food, but Ymir laughed and threw him a wink once she’d managed to calm herself down. 

“Thanks,” Eren had stuttered. 

Everyone else who wasn’t in their pack hadn’t taken to him as kindly. Most would just look at him terrified, not meeting his gaze. Some would shuffle away from him nervously if he came too close. Others outright despised him, those brave enough to glare and spit his way. 

It pissed him off, but he didn’t expect _everyone_ to accept him with open arms. He imagines that if this had happened to anyone else he probably would have done the same, considering his views of titans in general as being violent, destructive monsters who destroy everything in their path. 

Mikasa’s managed to quieten a few that had gotten the idea to start a protest against the decision to let Eren live. And he’d witnessed Reiner growl at a lady who was talking rather loudly about what a terrible idea it is to let the monster out of his cage. 

Even Annie Leonhart, who Eren honestly thought couldn't care less about him if all the bank faced stares and silent glares were anything to go by (he now knows that’s just her constant state of being), had nearly given a man a broken wrist for slandering Eren’s name. 

It was comforting to know that he had a loyal pack. 

If only his mate could be part of it. 

“How’s Jean?” Connie asks. Reiner comes over with two mugs of water, pushes one towards the kid and orders him to drink.

Of course, the kid would ask. He seems to have attached himself to Jean, or the idea of Jean, in the weirdest of ways. Eren’s not sure what type of relationship the kid and Jean have together. They barely smell like each other. But he continues to ask about him, even cried when Eren told him that Marco had passed away, saying how hard it must be for Jean. 

That was a week ago. 

“Ah,” Eren jolt. At first, he was a little thrown by the question, the fact that someone had actually asked. Nobody else had seemed interested in asking, just thrown him curious looks that flicker away as soon as they think he’s noticed. It’s almost as if everyone is too scared to ask about his mate. To be honest, Eren’s been a little scared to ask too. He's used to it now though. Connie asks nearly every day.  “He’s-” _Not talking. Not eating. Hate’s himself. Hates me_. “Okay.”

“Where is he?” 

“Um, back in my room- His room… _Our_ room, I mean.” Eren still stutters over the answer, even when it hasn't changed all week. 

Connie bites his lip. He’s wearing a piece of Eren’s old clothing, a thermal undershirt that peeks out from the sleeves of his army jacket. Eren used to wear it often, not that anyone could tell since the clothes have been segregated from any scent that was belonging to him in the slightest. Reiner and Bertolts doing, he imagines. They don’t fit the kid all too well, but it’s better than the blanket sizes of the other two alphas clothing he was wearing beforehand. 

Eren’s been given a new uniform too, one that's fabric length actually goes all the way down to his ankles and wrists, and doesn’t strain over his shoulders. Bertolt and Riner have been kind in their provision of clothing. Eren’s washed the fuck out of those too. He doesn’t mind smelling of them in a pack scent, but there’s no way he’s going to wear another Alphas scent pure and unadulterated. 

No fucking way. 

“I haven’t seen him coming to meals,” Connie goes on, pointedly. Eren's unsure if he's been accused of something or not. From next to him he can see Reiner give the kid a warning glance that he blatantly ignores. 

Eren puts his own hands up defensively, “I don’t know. I’m not his fucking keeper!”

Armin looks at him dumbfounded then, before doing what he always does when he thinks he’s talking to an absolute moron, sucks air in through his teeth and shakes his head. “Fucking hell Eren.” 

“What?” Eren asks, annoyed. He's not even hungry anymore. Too angry at himself, Jean and everyone else to eat. 

“Um,” Reiner says, clearing his throat. “You kinda _are_ his keeper man. You’re his alpha, that’s literally your job.” 

He's... 

He’s right. Eren knows that. 

But he doesn’t want to deal with it. 

He doesn’t know how to, is the problem. He could barely deal with it when Jean finally returned to him a week ago, half frozen from cold and eyes glassy. Eren’s heart had almost stopped when Jean had collapsed in front of him, a few feet from where Eren had charged through the front gates of the training camp. 

He had _felt_ Jean there, felt him getting closer to him, knew he needed him. And there wasn’t anything that was going to stop him from meeting Jean halfway. Or less than half, because Jean had already stumbled into the grounds before Eren had his sights on him. 

A heaviness had possessed him when he’d looked. He could feel Jean, could feel the frozen torture of loss he was experiencing. 

He’d not known what to say then, so he’d simply caught the omega in his arms, took him back to their room, and just laid beside him. 

Laid for two entire days beside him. 

Jean doing nothing but staring at the wall opposite him. Sometimes in the night, Eren will wake up to him whispering, always too quiet to make out anything sensible. But he can hear the wet sound of lips pressing together, and the accented exhales of words. 

He’s consistently tried to make the omega get up and eat, shower, move. It never ends well.

Jean will claw bite and kick at him until he backs off.

Reiner says he's his keeper. 

Eren has a feeling Jean doesn't want to be kept. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

“You really need two plates there Jaeger?” Ymir asks, pushing her now empty one away from her. “Suppose you _would_ have a bigger appetite now that you’re the size of a horse.” 

It’s just the two of them currently. Mikasa and Annie are early birds and have probably already eaten, and the rest are on their way. Already Jean can see Christa, Connie and Sasha in line together waiting for food trays, the pretty little blonde omega stifling a yawn, teeth glimmering off the still lit lamplight. 

The weather makes the mornings so much darker without a sunrise. It feels much earlier in the morning without it. 

“Nah, one’s for Jean,” Eren explains.

Ymir face loses some of its humour. She glances around the room, eyes lingering on the three of their pack members standing in the line for a couple of seconds before flickering back to Eren. 

“He still not…” she trails off, and Eren doesn't need her to finish the sentence to understand the unsaid meaning.

“No.”

She sighs. “People are saying that the reason they haven’t seen him 'round is that you haven’t been letting him off his knees.” She holds up her hands in submission when Eren begins to growl at the thought of people talking about his mate in such a lewd way. “Don’t worry,” Ymir quickly diffuses his anger, “I made sure the fuckers didn’t speak any more about it. I’m just saying…” She trails off, looks back over to Christa. “It must fucking suck to have someone you’re bonded to feel so… sad.”

 _She has no fucking idea,_ he wants to scream.

“He’ll get out of it." She's unusually vocal today. Her tone more serious. Eren doesn't have the care to ask why. "Marco was a good guy. Good to _him_. Good _for_ him. Even though he’s gone, Jean still has you. He'll figure that out eventually.”

Yeah, he’s pretty sure _that's_ the reason Jean is literally refusing to breathe right now, but he still nods in agreement. “I guess.”

The sit in silence for a while, Ymir’s attention focused back on the trio as they gradually make their way up the line. “Hey Jaeger?”

“What?” he responds around a mouthful. 

“What’s it like being mated?”

Eren thinks she might be blushing slightly, but the room is too dark to tell. He shrugs. Swallows. “I dunno.” He says disinterestedly. She gives him an unimpressed look that forces him to follow with, “It’s weird. Like having another part of yourself that you didn’t know you were missing suddenly appear. Like if you grew another arm.” 

He’s not sure how to explain it. He hopes that’s enough. 

She hums, still looking over at the three pack members who are now coming their way, full trays in hand. Christa sits next to Ymir and immediately transfers one of her three potatoes onto the Alphas plate. Ymir’s delight at the gesture radiates in her scent. Connie and Sasha sit to the side of Eren, although they ignore him entirely as they maintain their in-depth conversation about where to get the best illicit alcohol from. 

Connie’s shaking his head as he delves into his breakfast. “There’s no way,” he says. “You haven’t even tried the stuff from The Capital. It’s like, 10 times as strong and smells like lemon. You can get shit-faced after one glass.”

Sasha makes a sour face, “Gross. I hate lemon.”

"A food you hate? What a surprise," Ymir comments. 

“Trust me, it’s better than anything you can find 'round here," Connie continues. 

“Oh, so you’ve tried it then? How the hell did you manage to get liquor from the Capital? I thought you lived in the middle of nowhere?” Sasha crosses her arms, squinting suspiciously across at the kid, who tenses up suddenly. 

“U-Uh…” He coughs.” Um, our neighbour was a… a guard. In the Kings' guard. He retired out in my village and brought some with him.” The kid picks at the hem of his gloves, a nervous gesture that makes it even more apparent that he’s lying. 

Sasha snorts and rolls her eyes, “Yeah right.”

“What village are you from?” Eren asks. “I used to travel with my dad a lot, I might know it.”

“Oh,” Connie says. He stares at his plate. “It’s really small. You probably won’t.” Eren opens his mouth to ask further but Connie cuts him off with a hasty, “How’s Jean?”

Eren’s mouth snaps closed. Kid's fucking weird. He's still wearing his gloves, even as he eats. 

“Fine,” Eren says. Ymir looks over at him, expression unreadable but say’s nothing otherwise.

Connie bites his lip like he wants to say more. But he doesn’t. Just looks at the second plate of now cold food and chooses to stay quiet. Eren’s grateful. He doesn’t want to talk about Jean. 

It makes his chest hurt and his stomach twist. He doesn't know what to say. 

Eventually the rest of the 104th show up. Armin slinking through the door rubbing his eyes and Bertolt and Reiner not far behind him.  

He must have been spacing out for a bit because suddenly Armin is poking him with a fork to get his attention. There’s a soldier standing at the head of their table, an Alpha with long hair tied up in a ponytail behind him. He looks more than uncomfortable. 

“A-Ah”, he stutters. Eren can smell his nerves. The solider doesn’t look up from where he’s burning holes into the table with his small, squinted eyes. “Commander Erwin requests your presence in his office.”

It’s silent, until Ymir snorts, “What, _all of us_? It’s gonna be a bit crowded.”

The soldier turns red and begins to sweat even more. “No. Just the titan shifter… and his mate.” The soldier is greeted by more silence. _“Immediately.”_ He stands there for another couple of seconds, shuffling from foot to foot as if waiting for someone to dismiss him, before scuttling away quickly himself.

“He seemed nice,” Christa says.

“Seemed fucking stupid,” Ymir follows. 

Eren sighs and looks down at the full plate of food meant to go to his mate. There’s not going to be any time to convince Jean to eat it anyway, not when they’ve been summoned. Immediately.

Finally, Eren might get his schedule back. Might be able to start training again with his pack. Might be able to force things back to the way they were. A normal routine.

He actually misses doing chores. 

He stands and piles his plates together. Connie nudges him in the side and whispers that he’ll keep the spare plate of food somewhere safe and clean for Jean if he wanted. Will deliver it to their room when he hears their meeting is over. Eren tilts his head in appreciation. 

“Good luck,” Ymir sing songs to him as he leaves the table.

He’s halfway across the courtyard before he realises Armin is right on his heels. The beta’s legs aren’t particularly long, not like Eren’s are now, and where they used to keep pace with each other quite easily, Eren finds himself slowing down so the other can keep up. 

“Hey?” he says. Because it’s unlike Armin to skip out on a meal. The guy's paranoid about getting scurvy and having his teeth fall out that he actively tries to ingest as many nutrients as possible. 

 _“Don’t be alarmed_ ,” he starts off with, which automatically makes Eren alarmed and his hackles rise, “But I think one of the Kings Councilmen are going to be there. Same one who was at your trial. I saw him arrive through the gates when I went to the showers this morning.”

Eren falters, “Wait, there was a Kings Councilmen at the trial? Like, the _Capitol King_?”

“Eren, who the fuck do you think pardoned you?”

He shrugs, “I don’t know. Some general or someone?” 

Armin makes a sour face and takes a deep, patient breath. "I’m, starting to get really annoyed by your lack of observation. Especially in consideration to the people who were literally deciding whether you lived or not.”

“Why the fuck would a Kings Councilmen be at my trial?”

Now, the beta stares at him with pure shock. “Are you… Do you seriously not realise the gravity of the situation here? You, a citizen within the walls has the inexplicable power to turn into the very thing that is trying to destroy humanity. Did u expect for the king to just let the army deal with you on their own? Without even inspecting the danger you pose himself?”

Armin’s walking faster now, towards Eren and Jean’s sleeping cabins. 

“Okay, I get it. This whole thing’s a big deal-“

“It’s a huge fucking deal Eren! I can’t believe I’m even having to explain this to you!” He stops to stare up at the Alpha. “When Mikasa gets back from the city I’ll get her to have a word with you, maybe she can get it through to you how important it is for you to pay attention next time your life is on the line.”

“Hold on. Armin wait!” He grabs his friends elbow, stopping him from storming forward, “What’s Mikasa doing in the city?”

The beta bites his lip, appearing guilty. “Shit, I wasn’t mean to say anything…”

“Armin!”

“Alright! Stop shaking me!” Eren lets him go, surprised at himself that he’d been gripping that hard. He really needs to come to terms with his own strength. “She’s gone to the city to volunteer for relief work. She signed up yesterday and left this morning. She’ll be back tonight.  Trainees can only work for a couple of days at the most.”

Eren’s brows furrow in confusion. “But why?”

Armin bites his lip again. “She said… she said she needed some time away. Or something. She’s not used to your ‘new scent’ yet and she’s finding it hard to adapt.”

New Scent? Eren takes a sniff of himself, but as usual can only smell sweat, dirt, and Jean. 

“What’s wrong with my scent?”

Armin sniffs softly and frowns. "I really don't know. You still smell the same to me, just more... intense. You smell stronger, more powerful. And your scent sorta takes over the room when you enter it. It doesn't really affect me because I'm used to it. I thought she'd be the same." He shrugs. “Ask her when she’s back. I think there are a couple of things you two need to talk about.”

Great. Jean _and_ Mikasa are mad at him now. Maybe he shouldn’t have fought as hard against the death penalty… no, he shouldn’t think like that. 

“Alright.”

“Come on, you’re gonna be late for your meeting. And you still have to get Jean.”

Eren grimaces. He’s not sure if Jean wants to be got right now. He raises an eyebrow at Armin, “You escorting us?”

The blond shakes his head, parting ways towards the Commission Offices, “No, I have tax duty this morning. Just wanted to warn you about the Councilmen… away from everyone too, so nobody panics or ‘overreacts’. But seriously, be careful around him, that man smells weird.”

Eren grimaces. “Yeah, alright.”

 “Oh,” Armin shouts again before Eren turns the corner. “And change your clothes too! You look…” he trails off. “Just put something clean on!”

Looking down at himself, there’s a piece of egg on the front of his jacket. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Inside the room Jean’s still curled facing the wall. No surprises there. A harsh pang of pain hits him as soon as he walks inside of the room, the sheer amount of disconnect he feels and separation between himself and Jean is overwhelmingly strong. And it hurts. 

His hands burn with the need to touch, and after a few seconds of staring he jolts forward and rests a hand on the sharp protrusion that he thinks is Jeans shoulder. 

Immediately the lump flings itself further into the wall, thumping against the wood rather harshly. The lump whines pitifully. 

“Well, that was silly, wasn’t it?” He’s not even sure why he’s attempting humour at all. And from the kick he receives, although weak, it appears that Jean isn’t impressed by the attempt either. “Hey, I know this is bad timing and all that. But we’ve got to go to a meeting with Commander Erwin. Um, now.”

As predicted Jean barely acknowledges he’s spoken, so Eren, now with no small amount of frustration boiling within him, stands up and begins rummaging through Jeans half unpacked box of clothing. A clean, fresh looking uniform is tossed onto the bed. 

“Get dressed.” He winces at the low, authoritative growl in his voice. But Eren’s done playing nice. He’s been patient, and kind, and tried to be understanding, but it’s not in his nature to just mope around like this after something bad has happened. After his mother died he’d felt the urgent need to get up and fight, not lay in bed and cry. 

He doesn’t understand how Jean doesn’t just use this pain to motivate him to… Eren doesn’t know. Do something productive, he supposes. It’s what he would have done. It’s what he did do!

Instead, his mate has just shut down completely. 

Shut him out.

“I know you’re sad,” he explains shakily. “But this,” he gestures uselessly at the bed, knowing the omega isn’t even looking, “ _this_ cannot continue. Not now. You need to get up and get dressed and come with me.”

He forces himself to keep moving so he doesn't just crumple in hopelessness on the spot. Begins to search through his own draws of clothing, finding the shiny new uniform Captain Levi gave him, in a size that fits him after his sudden body enlargement. Whilst fumbling with the buttons on his shirt he goes on.

“I need you to do this with me. Please. I don’t know what the fuck is going to happen at this meeting, but I’d really rather not drag you there all limp and shit. Which I fucking will Jean, I will throw your skinny ass over my shoulder and drag you out with me because I am not doing this alone and- and could you please just _talk to me_? I really need you to-“

“Shut up. I’m getting changed.” 

A voice, scratched and weak from disuse but god, it sounds like fucking heaven to Eren because that voice is Jean’s voice.

He’s talking.

Speaking.

 _Finally._  

Slowly he turns around to see Jean shakily pulling up the pair of pants over scarily prominent hipbones. Eren swallows, and Jean pauses, looking up with eyes glazed over. Red and puffy, dark and bruised. He looks sickly. Supposes he is. 

Jean licks over his dry, chapped lips. Mouth hanging open like words will just fall out, but the room is eerily silent. Tense. Eren’s terrified of moving, breathing, breaking this delicate slice of clam they’ve fallen into. He thinks Jean’s terrified too. 

He can feel it, ever so slightly. 

 _He can feel Jean again._  

Barely a flicker to the flame they had before, but it’s there… Jean’s there. It's like gaining feeling back into a frostbitten finger. And Eren, once again, can barely breathe. “Jean, i-“

The omega shakes his head, eyes closed, effectively cutting of the sentence Eren wasn’t even sure he was going to finish.  

“ _Don’t_. Not right now. I can’t…” he looks up at the ceiling, and blinks furiously. “Don’t say anything. I know we have to get this meeting done. I get it.”

 _I understand my duty_ , is left unsaid. Eren can feel it weigh down the elation pushing through him before. 

“Right,” he says. Wishes he had something more to offer, but can’t quite think past the feeling of Jean being inside of him. “You can do this?” he asks instead, moving forward just an inch to-to… he just wants to touch him. Needs to. 

He’s beyond grateful that Jean lets him when he places his hands on the omegas elbows, drawing him closer.  

Jean’s eyes are wet and his lip is trembling, as are his hands. “Do i have a choice?”

Eren doesn’t have a response to that.

 _Neither of us do_ , he thinks. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

The walk to the Commander's office is quick and silent. The silence isn’t a problem since there’s nothing to say. But Jean does wish that the office was a little further away than just around the corner. He’s almost not ready for it when they reach the door, doesn’t want to open whatever can of worms is behind it. He knows he has to though, he knows he has to just move on but… 

It’s so fucking hard. 

He can’t stop thinking about how much has changed in such a short amount of time. How out of control his life has become without him even doing anything to contribute to its downfall other than just _be._  

But could he have stopped it anyway? Could anything have been done to prevent this? 

He doesn’t know how the hell Eren got his powers. That whole mess is a separate problem entirely, which really has nothing to do with Jean, other than the fact that he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time when Mikasa, Armin and Captain Levi had cornered him and forced him into that godforsaken cell. 

What would have happened if they’d never found him? Would they have found someone else instead? Or would Eren've had to take his chances with the trial by himself?

It seems they wanted to keep him alive anyway. 

If Jean hadn't been wasting time in that cell if he's been free to look for Marco sooner, would he have perhaps found the other boy in time? 

No… no, he can’t think like that. 

Marco… there was nothing Jean could do. His wound was fatal. He must have died instantly. He had to. 

Jean can’t stomach the thought of him suffering. 

It’s what’s been relaying over and over in his head the past week. The fact that Jean hadn’t been with him when he died. That they’d been split up during the attack. 

_If he’d just been there… maybe things would be different._

Maybe Jean wouldn’t be where he is _now._

He keeps thinking of the last moment he saw Marco. The way he revealed his neck when he threw his head back in a laugh, the way his hands always seemed to find the knots in Jeans back. They were sitting in the Stables together when the alarm went off. 

Marco’s eyebrows were drawn together in concern, batting away Jean’s comment about, “It’s probably just a drill.”

“I don’t think it is…”

“Just don’t worry about it.”

They’d been late to roll call because Jean had insisted the alarm wasn’t important. He remembers the clear look of determination on Marco’s face as they there on their 3DMG gear, a stark contrast to the fear on Jean’s own. He looked and smelt powerful. 

Perhaps that’s why Jean thought, without a doubt, that he would survive. 

He doesn’t remember when they were separated. He tries to picture the moment in his head when he notice Marco was no longer beside him, but there’s a clear gap of time of when he last saw Marco slashing down a titan that was looming over a small family, to when Jean looked behind him and saw only smoke and fire. 

If he’d just kept his eyes on the alpha. If he’d just followed him. Maybe he could have saved him from the awful fate placed upon him. 

He could have fucking done something. Marco could be alive _if he’d just been there_. 

No… No, he can’t… can’t go down that line of thinking. His heart is racing with panic and his stomach is churning with guilt just at the thought that none of this would have happened if he’d just stayed with Marco-

“Jean?”

Eren’s got him by the shoulders. They’re at the entrance to the office building. The office clerk is looking at them over the desk, although she doesn’t say anything. Eren grips him a little harder, painfully so, and bends down so he can look Jean in the eyes. “Jean… you feel…”

He feels horrible. “I’m okay.”

Eren looks like he doesn’t believe him. But he also looks like he knows he can’t argue right now, there isn’t any time. 

Jean really doesn’t want to do this. But he forces himself to raise his head. Swallow down the lump in his throat and just focus on the way Eren’s warmth bleeds into his cold skin from under the alphas palms. 

He wonders when he became comfortable with the Alpha touching him. _I’m not_ , he tells himself, and pushes the other away. 

“Don’t touch me. I’m _fine._ ”

Eren's face looks an odd mix of pained and annoyed, and he lets Jean go to walk up to the desk.

The clerk clears her throat. “You’re here to see Commander Erwin?”

“Oh, um, yes? How did you-“

“Up the stairs, third door to your left.”

She doesn’t look away from them as they walk up the stairs, her beady eyes making the hairs on Jean’s back stand on end with apprehension. If he wasn't in a such a tunnel of thought he’d have shot her a dirty look. 

At the top of the staircase, Eren grabs his wrist suddenly. Jean startles at the contact. “I think the man from the trial is going to be there. The one in the council.” He whispers it lowly, eyes flickering down the hallway as if the man himself might walk down it and overhear.

Jean struggles to push away his internal self-deprecating thoughts to conjure the memories of the trial. 

The awful revelation that Jean’s nothing but _Unnecessary_ comes to him easily enough, sitting right at the forefront of his mind. _Pity you’re barren._  

“Who, Councilman Serge?” Jean fucking hates that man. Hates him almost as much as he hate’s himself and Eren right now. 

Eren’s nostrils flare at the mention of the name, and he juts out his jaw. “Guess so. Armin said he saw him this morning.”

Jean’s not sure what he’s meant to do with this information. Is it weird that one of the kings close advisories are taking an interest in Eren? He’s not got the clear mind to dwell on it, even if he tried. Can only come up with a half hearted shrug and a mumbled, “Okay.”

The alphas jaw is still jutted out. “I can’t smell him in the building.”

“You can smell everyone in the _building_?” 

Surprised, as if this fact is the only the first time it’s occurred to Eren, he turns to Jean and says, “Yeah?”

They don’t speak anymore, because Captain Levi’s head is poking out from the third office door down with a look of scathing fury on his face. Lethal intent bleeding out from his pores as he spits at them quietly, “Get the fuck into this office _right fucking now_.”

Jean follows a step behind Eren. The Alpha feels uncertain, and it’s making Jean nervous, despite his attempt to ignore any and all feelings from his mate at the moment. 

He’s not very good at it, he finds. Eren’s a little overwhelming. 

Even amidst the darkest moments over the past few days since Jean returned from the city, wallowing in his self hatred and depression had been difficult, but he’d felt Eren there, even if he had been too closed off to reciprocate. He’s like a fire that just won’t fucking stop burning. 

Jean’s coming to realise this more and more as they enter the room. It's deceptively large for what the omega had been expecting. 

A large, hard wood table is what makes up the Commanders desk, with 10 or so large wooden chairs surrounding it. The walls are decorated with maps and 

There’s five people in the room, not including Jean and his mate. Commander Erwin sits behind his desk, hands steepled together, a pleasant smile on his face that gives absolutely nothing away of what the man is thinking. 

Next to him is Keith Sadies, the Cadet Corps Commandant. It’s a surprise to see him there, since Jean had heard the man was reposted to take over as the Damage Rehabilitations Commanding Officer until the city was back on it’s feet. It’s why he wasn't at the trial, or why Erwin has been dealing with Eren’s case even though he’s technically the Scout Regiment Commander. 

Perhaps the city is fixed? Or perhaps this meeting is far more important than simply sorting out training schedules. 

Captain Levi and Dr. Hanji sit together on one side of him, the latter whispering lowly into the ear of the other, however she stops immediately as soon as she catches sight of Eren, her eyes widening ever so slightly in excitement. 

Even though she’s not looking at him, Jean feels put on edge at her unbridled delight at seeing the titan shifter. He knows that eventually, perhaps sooner than he’s expecting, she’s going to begin tests on him and his mate. What that entrails exactly Jean couldn’t even begin to imagine, but he’s heard the horror stories of the crazy mad scientist with the obsession with titans. 

She’s never been someone he’s ever wanted to get close with. And now he doesn’t have a choice it seems. 

He hopes she'll just dismiss him in her curiosity like everyone else.

The fith person in the room, whilst not completely unexpected, still makes Jean’s heart rate increase with shock and his mate stand a little more formally in front of him. 

“Ah, at last, our meeting can begin, now that everyone is finally here,” Councilman Serge says, standing tall and looming in the opposite corner of the room. He looks for all the world like a man who’s just been offered all the gold in the kings crypt and is deciding what to spend it on, as he takes the seat of Commander Erwins right and stares at Eren much like the scientist is. Although where Hanji’s stare is full of interest and curiosity, this man’s is cold and calculating. 

When looks at Jean the stare turns into distaste. Jean flicks his head down obediently to the floor, much too unnerved by the amount of power in the room to outwardly show how much he hates the man in front of him and how he does not want to there at all. 

He’s the weakest person here, both politically, socially and physically, he imagines. The only reason he is here is because he’s Eren’s mate. 

“Please, take a seat,” Serge offers, gesturing to the chairs on the opposite side of the table with a gloved hand. Jean doesn’t move an inch until his Alpha does. Eren, after an noticeable pause finally sits down. 

“Sorry for the delay,” he says, although he sounds anything but sorry. Jean wishes Eren at least had the ability to lie about things like this, but the man is too genuine for his own good.  

Levi snorts and Erwin offers a charismatic smile. “Something to work on perhaps.”

“You can make up for it by cleaning the toilets in your spare time,” Sadies says. 

Eren just nods. 

They begin with a layout of Eren’s new training schedule. Giving him ample training time to hone in his 3DMG skills as well as train with the rest of the 104th. Sadie’s makes it very obvious that he’s not going to let Eren get away with missing out on normal training just because he’s ‘taller and more aggressive’. 

In replacement of the chores found on many other recruits schedules, there’s a slot labeled Ability Training. 

“That’s when you’ll meet with me. You and Jean both,” Hanji says, her face lighting up. “I have so many theories I want to test. And don’t worry, I have full confidence that you will learn to control your titan form very quickly.”

Eren nods his he’d slowly, “Um, alright.”

“Your mate’s schedule will be much the same as your’s,” Erwin says, not even bothering to look in Jean’s direction. “That is until we have more knowledge on the effects of your bond and what limitations we need to accommodate for and liberties we can take with it.”

Eren nods again once he figures out they’re looking for confirmation from _him_ , and not his mate. He looks across to Jean. Jean shrugs nonchalantly. What does it even matter if he say’s yes or no? Everything already seems fucking decided for him. 

“This schedule will commence tomorrow,” Erwin affirms, “Captain Levi will be your handler for these first few weeks until a trust is solidified that you’re no longer a threat. You do understand the importance of this?” Erwin’s shoulders loose their tense broadness for a moment, and his eyes crinkle, “It’s just a precaution until we can make certain your life, or anyone else’s, isn’t on the line anymore. We’re not punishing you Eren. ”

It’s not very formal for the Commander to address Eren in such a familiar way, but Jean finds it rather endearing, and can’t help but feel a little grateful to the Alpha for treating his mate with kindness. 

Eren’s a fucking stupid piece of shit, but he didn’t ask to be a monster. Jean’s starting to come to terms with that, even while Eren makes it so hard. 

Serge, from the acidic glare he’s giving the Commander, clearly does _not_ share Jeans sentiment. 

Jean get’s the sense that as much as himself and Eren are thrown off by the councilmen’s presence, the others are too. Levi is staring at the man with outwards distaste, but he’s also staring at Eren that way…. Hanji appears unaffected, however Erwin is continuously giving the man quick, uneasy looks that wouldn’t be noticeable unless you were sitting directly in front of him and can see the slight turn of his head. 

Sadies just looks outright uncomfortable. 

Clearly, this meeting was meant for a more intimate company of those amongst the army corps. 

He wonders if Serge has any other titles other than councilman, not that he needs any. A member of the Kings Council can only answer to the king himself. He’s by far the highest ranking man probably in the entire city at the moment. 

Is Eren really warranted for that much involvement of the crown? Jean thought they just wanted to weaponise him. Surely they were already going to do that just by having him train in the army?

Unless the Councilman has some other agenda?

“Alright,” Erwin says, breaking Jean from his thoughts. “Let’s move onto what Regiment you will be registering for. Of course, you understand that the ability to choose what sanction of the Army you fight in has been taken away. We mean this not to offend you, Eren. It’s only so that we can better improve your functionality with us, and give trust to the crown that you are willing to serve the army where they need.”

Sadies sits up a little straighter when he notices Eren’s eyes narrowing in thought, “It’s to my understanding that you have expressed interest in joining the Scout Regiment anyway, so it should be a comfort for you to know that you have been granted permission to not only stay in the army, but to join the ranks of your desired regiment. After you complete your cadet training of course.”

Jean wonders if that means he’s going to have to become a Scout as well. 

Most likely. 

At this point he doesn’t even fucking care. Aspiring for a position in the Kings Guard was only appealing when Marco was going to be there with him. 

“Personally,” Serge says suddenly, “I still think we should have him serve in the Military Police.” The way he says it makes it seem as though he’s picking up a conversation just recently had. 

This is confirmed when Levi adds in a bored tone, “Of course, you’d let an untrained, unreliable monster into close quarters with the king, having no idea of his capabilities or level of control.”

Serge barely blinks, “I think it would be beneficial for the king to have such a strong member in his guard-“

“He’s a fucking titan, he’s not _strong,_ he’s a wild fucking animal!”

“Levi!” Erwin cuts, once again eyes flicking over to the unblinking councilman. 

Levi continues, sitting back in his chair with arms crossed. “He’s joining the Scouts. We’ve already got the clearance for it.  The Garrison do not want him, and it doesn’t make sense for him to be anywhere else except for outside of the walls when he’s in training. Away from the city, and away from the kingdom.” He shoots Serge a nasty, venomous smile, “Dhalis Zachary, the _Commander-In-Chief_ has already signed off a letter of consent for this to go forth. Your argument isn’t even relevant.”

Serge places his gloved hands on the table in a placating manner, although the slight hurried tapping of his left hand gives away his agitation. “Indeed.” His eyes settle back onto Eren’s direction. “However, having him train outside of the wall will make it harder to travel for the bonding ceremony.”

Ceremony? Wait, _what?_

“Of course,” Serge says, waving a hand in the air, “We insist on having it in the royal capitol. Many of the lords, nobleman and other influential aristocrats are very interested in meeting you, Mr Jaeger. And what better reason to gather than for a ceremony?”

“Neither of you are of high blood, but it shouldn’t matter, given the investment of Mr Jaegers potential within the Military. I’m sure any shortcomings can be overlooked.” The bastard looks at Jean as he says this. 

 Eren must feel the spike of upset that runs through him because the Alpha begins to growl, “No offence Sir, but we don’t want any ceremony-“

“If our invitation is met with any refusal, then we shall have no choice but to assume there is a lack of control over the titan shifter,” Serge says, talking so indifferently that Jean’s not sure who he’s addressing, them or their superiors.  “And _that_ might just change the decision previously made over Mr Jaegers _execution_.”

With a gasp, a cold wave of fear washes over Jean. Puts a hand to his mouth to stop the profanity willing to burst out of it. 

He’s threatening Eren. Threatening _them_. 

Eren does not take this so kindly. The Alpha stands abruptly and pounds his fists on the table, snarling, “The fuck are you even saying?”

“Eren! Enough,” Erwin growls, the low tones of his voice reverberate around the room. It’s an Alphas voice. Jean wilts unintentionally under the power of it. Levi and Hanji do the same from across the table. 

For a short, terrifying moment Jean thinks his mate is going to lunge across the table, and then he really will be put to death because he attacked a fucking _kings councilmen._

“ _Eren_ ,” he pleads quietly enough that he doubts anyone else hears, tugging on the alphas sleeve in an attempt to make him withdraw from his aggressive stance and sit. To his surprise, it works. The alpha slowly sits down, his body taut like a catapult ready to launch. 

His nostrils are still flared in anger, but at least he’s not looking like he’s about to throat punch someone.  

Erwin says, “Apologies, Councilmen Serge. Please do not think we accept this type of insolence from our recruits.”

“I should hope not,” Serge says. And now Jean wants to punch the guy in the throat because he’s sitting there smugly, knowing full well he just baited Eren into a reaction that would back him into a corner. The man stands suddenly, making the rest of them stand to attention also. “My only objective for being present at this meeting was to extend the generous invitation to Mr Jaeger and his mate to have their bonding ceremony inside the kingdom. Now with confirmation of its acceptance, I can return to the Capitol and deliver the good news to the King himself. He, as many others, look forward to finally meeting you, Mr Jaeger.”

He bids a farewell to Commander Erwin before leaving for the door. Just as he passes through it he pauses, turns back to them with a smile, “Mr Eren, should you at some point in the future happen to get the option of Military Guard, I would suggest you take it. I can ensure you a bright, prosperous future if you do.”

When the door finally closes, Jean feels like he can breathe again. As it is his legs feel weak, and he near falls back down onto his chair like a cripple. His mind is running circles around itself, struggling through the thick cloud of emotion that’s been lingering there for the past couple of days and trying desperately to make sense of this new information. 

They’re going to have a bonding ceremony. In the Capitol! In front of the King. This is… this is huge. 

At a loss, he looks to Eren. The alpha is glaring at the door, hands in fists at his side as if Serge is going to waltz back through it to once again turn their lives upside down. 

“Well, that certainly went better than I expected,” Hanji says, a slight emphatic sound to her voice. 

Levi sits as well. Rubs his forehead. “What did you expect four-eyes?”

“I didn’t think he would just hand over Eren that easily to us. I thought for sure he would have guaranteed him a position in the military guard once we’ve cleared him for efficacy. He seemed very determined before this meeting to have Eren in the Capitol.”

“Well, he fucking got his way didn’t he?” Eren spits. 

“L _anguage_ ,” Erwin says tiredly, like a father whose kid has been misbehaving all day. 

“I’m sorry Commander, but do we really have to go to the Capitol for this.. this… what even is a bonding Ceremony?”

“It’s something the Royals have been doing for generations. A way of celebrating the introduction of a new bloodline. However, it’s been adopted by the Nobles and other affluent folks in the Capitol. Few people do it this far away from the Kingdom unless they’re from there originally.” 

“It’s basically an overdramatised version of making your bond official at a law building. You still sign the stupid bond papers. Except instead of the few minutes it takes privately in an office with only one witness, you spend an entire night getting drunk with assholes who can’t even pour their own drinks. It’s bullshit,” Levi says. 

Erwin smiles at him. “Thank you for that explanation.”

“I’m just glad they never made us do it,” the Beta says under his breath, and Jean suddenly remembers that Levi and Erwin are bonded together as well. It always surprises him when he does, because they’re such independent people, such opposites too. And they never act like a bonded couple in public. Never overly possessive or clingy. 

They’re professional to a fault. 

“I would have pissed in their stupid fucking wine barrel if they tried to make us,” Levi snarls. 

“I would have liked to see that,” Erwin laughs. 

Okay, maybe not entirely Professional. 

Sadie’s sighs, “When will they be expecting to hold the ceremony? The cadets have graduation in a month, and we’re still not sure of how stable Jaeger is at this point. Ronan is an idiot if he thinks having someone like that in the middle of a kingdom so soon is a good idea.”

“We can probably push it out until after their graduation,” Hanji says, “I’ll make my reports seem inconclusive of his stability. And advise against breaking his training routine for as long as I can,” Hanji says. “Of course, I might not have to falsify anything. We have virtually nothing to go on in regards to his abilities until we actually begin running tests.”

Erwin looks at Sadies, “We’ll both write recommendations for when we think it’s appropriate timing. Hopefully someone in that kingdom has some sense to listen to us.”

Sadie’s nods his head in affirmation and stands, “I’ll send a message to Dhalis, see what he makes of the situation.” He then leaves. 

Jean, who’s been sitting rather quietly in a nauseating state of perplexity over the whole meeting, finally finds his voice enough to ask, “Do we… do we _have_ to have a ceremony?” 

They all look at him, and honestly Jean regrets speaking at all now. He feels more than uncomfortable with their eyes on him. Eren attempts to put a hand on his leg under the table but he jerks away. Hadn’t even realised his foot had been tapping insistently against the wooden floor until he moved it. 

“Unfortunately, yes. You do,” Erwin says. 

“Why?” Eren demands. 

Erwin mouth open and closes. “Because,” he settles on, “If you don’t go, it’ll be taken as a sign that not only are you refusing the King’s kindness but that you might be too unstable to even attend. Which, as Councilmen Serge stated, could change the decision they made about keeping you alive.”

“But I’m not unstable,” Eren whines, not as confident as he would have probably liked it to be. 

“We’re sure you’re not,” Erwin soothes, “but they don’t know that. Going to this ceremony will show them.”

 _It’s not fair_ , Jean wants to say. And fuck, how many times has he fucking thought of _those words?_  

“It’s probably not going to happen for a while anyway,” Levi adds. “Not if they know what’s good for them.”

“Is there anything you want to go over at all?” Erwin asks, looking from Eren to Jean. They both shake their heads.  “Right, well, here are your schedules. Try not to worry about all this. Let us adults handle all the politics alright? You two just need to focus on training and getting used to your bond.” He smiles a genuine smile, one that feels more real than the other times Jean’s witnessed them. “It can take a while sometimes. Even if you choose it.”

Hanji laughs and pokes Levi in the shoulder, who in returns snarls at his blonde mate, “Don’t fucking say that to them.”

“Dismissed,” Erwin says. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

Back in their room they sit side by side on the bed in silence for a long time. The sun shines a low golden hue through the window, making the brown wood of the walls glow ever so slightly. 

Jean sniffs. “I need to take a shower.”

“You need to eat.”

“M’Not hungry.”

“ _Jean_ -“

“ _Eren_ -“

“Stop it.”

Jean looks at him. The man looks tired. He looks exhausted. And Jean knows he’s being difficult. “I,” he begins. Stops. Grabs the alphas hand slowly. “I’m sorry.”

Eren’s thick eyebrows narrow. “Why? I’m the asshole here I thought?”

“Well, yes. I think we both kinda are.”

After a moment of staring Eren laughs. He shakes his head and scratches the back of it. The sun runs along the length of his arm as he does it, contouring the muscles with light shadows. He really is very good looking, Jean thinks. 

It's a dumb thought. But it’s lighter than any other thought he’s had, and he tries not to let it fall away so easily. 

“I really need to shower though," he persists.

“Okay,” Eren says, but he doesn’t let go of Jean’s hand when he stands. Holds him a little desperately. “Please don’t block me out again. I… I couldn’t fucking… I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t-…”

Jean’s eyes begin to itch with remorse and he curls his hands into fists. The sting of nails biting into the skin of his palms is a weak distraction. He can feel the torment Eren’s feeling, feels the fear at having been completely isolated. He squeezes his eyes shut. Doesn’t want to talk about it. Not now. Not yet. 

Maybe never, if he’s lucky.

“Promise me, Jean,” Eren begs, holding Jean by the hipbones. A desperate strength inside of him that the omega can’t help but submit to. 

“I won’t.”

Hesitantly, he leans forward and kisses the top of Eren’s head. It’s the only comfort he can bear to offer right now. He’s still angry, but more at himself. What he feels for Eren now is eerily similar to what he feels for Marco. A pitiful, guilt-ridden love that _hurts_. 

Is it wrong of him to have his feelings for Marco and Eren suddenly become indistinguishable? Is it wrong that he can’t even determine when it was they began to bleed into each other?

Maybe. 

There’s _so much_ going on that Jean just needs time to think over. 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Eren doesn’t want to let him go. Want’s to follow right after him. Just be near him, hear the voice he never imagined he would have missed. But god, he did. He missed his voice, his eyes, his sweet, homely scent. Even the feelings. 

_He missed Jean._

Never in his life would he have thought he’d be thinking that. And the overwhelming relief and euphoria he feels just from seeing Jean walk around, acknowledging him, contrasts so starkly against the terror of having him walk away again. 

The omegas only going to the showers, he knows this. He knows. But… fuck Eren just wants to keep him close. Have him tucked safely into his side. Breath in the smell of  It’s an inherent need that’s been there since the bond, however it’s like it was tucked away deep inside him somewhere, and the cold stretch of isolation between them had found them. Dragged them into the light and suddenly it’s all Eren want’s to think about. 

More than anything he just want’s Jean to be near him. The feeling of chapped lips against his forehead lingers soothingly. Eren thinks he could get drunk on the calming pheromones the omega had been releasing.

The rooms still smells faintly of them, even with the time passed. 

He can’t make him stay though. Against every instinct inside of him, he can’t force Jean to stay close. The omega’s already shown that he won’t listen to Eren by escaping him the first chance he gets. 

If Eren keeps him on such a tight leash, it will only drive him away. 

Jean’s used to being alone, it seems. Unlike Eren, who’s never been without a pack, no matter how small. A hard thing to understand for him, but he’s trying. Needs to give Jean his space sometimes. Has to remember that. 

It’s fucking hard. 

And it’s confusing.

Not as confusing as the meeting they’d just escaped. He knows now why he didn’t remember the councilmen at the trail. The man didn’t have a scent on him at all. Couldn’t tell if he was an Alpha, Beta or even Omega. He could have been any, but with the way he held himself in an authoritarian manner Eren suspects the man was an Alpha. 

But there was no scent. No identifiable gender. 

He thinks of Connie. Perhaps there are just people out there who don’t have proper scents? Who don't pick up on the pheromones produced by specific genders, and it’s why Connie speaks against Alphas, or why Serge looked completely unthreatened when Eren blatantly growled at him in fury. 

But he was making Jean feel uncomfortable. There’s no fucking way Eren’s going to stand for that, not while he’s literally _standing_ right there. 

His hands rub over his face tiredly. Falls back onto the bed and curls over so he can smell Jean’s pillow. He really is exhausted. Feels like the days just dragged on and on. The meeting went all day, just going over the layouts of his new training and what he can expect. 

The only good thing about today, other than Jean finally talking to him, is that he’s got a guaranteed position as a Scout. Commander Sadies was right in saying that it’s what Eren had been wanting to apply for anyway. 

He can really make a difference being out beyond the wall. Slay more titans. Keep the walls safe. Do something that shows everyone he’s not the monster they now think he is. 

And if he truly is that monster, at least he’ll be beyond the wall, away from everyone. 

He knows he’s not, but the doubt still creeps in. Keeps him lying awake at night. Dreading the tests Hanji is going to take. What if he can’t control himself?

What if he hurts someone. Kills someone…

What will happen to him? To Jean?

Kock Knock…

Eren lifts his head. Takes a deep sniff. Grins. 

In seconds he has the door thrown open. 

“You’re back!”

Mikasa looks up at him. 

“I am.”

**Author's Note:**

> I changed the title. I'm into single word titles now. 
> 
> And I have to stop taking myself so seriously Christ.


End file.
